


Resurrection

by almostannette



Series: Annette's Gradence AU fics [4]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No magical powers, Anal Sex, But with a happy ending, Credence Barebone Deserves Better, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I basically rewrote The Shining as a slightly morbid and very gay rom com, I wasn't even drunk this time, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, a bit of smut in later chapters, but none of them turns into a raging axe-murderer, haunted hotel is haunted and full of ghosts, inspired by the Shining, mentions of murder suicide and insanity, non-graphic blow jobs, non-graphic hand jobs, slight daddy kink i suppose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-23 07:37:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9646631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostannette/pseuds/almostannette
Summary: The Shining!AUPercy Graves, after a scandal ruined his career as a policeman, seeks employment at the Macusa Hotel - he's going to be the caretaker during the winter. Dreading a long and lonely stay in the infamous hotel, Percy is pleasantly surprised to discover that a young man named Credence will stay with him over the winter.Everything could be fine, but why is Credence always freezing? Who exactly is the mysterious Manager he keeps talking about? And why does Percy keep seeing ghosts at every corner?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have an explanation and I can only say I'm sorry this happened, ok?
> 
> Fic: Unbeta'd. Author: Not a native speaker. I hereby apologize for any mistakes I might have made.

**Resurrection**

**Chapter 1**

**The Interview**

Percy Graves approached the hotel with deliberate steps and hoped he looked confident. The truth was, the thought of entering the hotel in front of him set his teeth on edge. Like the majority of people, he’d heard of the rumors surrounding the building. He preferred not to believe in them, but a slight uneasiness nevertheless remained.

No, what intimidated him more was the fact that he was on his way to a job interview, applying for a job he’d never thought he’d need to take. He had no other option, though. Percy needed the job, needed a place to stay and needed the money, now that his old life had collapsed in such a spectacularly embarrassing way.

The Macusa Hotel was situated in front of him, set against the marvelous, mountainous scenery and Percy took a deep breath to calm himself before he entered. He instantly catalogued the rich décor and the obviously well-off guests. It was a hotel Percy himself might have stayed in as a guest, in another life, had his father not done everything within his capabilities to squander the considerable Graves inheritance before Percy had even learnt his letters. All he’d gotten from his old man was a tendency for going prematurely gray and a mountain of debt.

Now that Percy had lost his old job along with any support he might have had left in the community of Irish immigrants (Percy was half-Irish, from his mother’s side), his only option was to get the job of winter caretaker at the Macusa.

Right in front of him was the hotel’s entrance hall with the reception. The largest chandelier Percy had ever seen hung from the ceiling; the light from the two-story windows reflected off the crystals and danced across the walls in bright dots.

“What are you doing here, Sir?” said a stern female voice behind him.

Percy turned around and met the eyes of a powerful, regal woman. She was staring at him as if he gave off a particularly unpleasant smell.

“Seraphina Picquery,” she introduced herself. “I’m the manager of the Macusa Hotel.”

“Percival Graves,” he replied and extended his right hand. “I’m here for the job interview. You know, for the job of winter caretaker?”

“Yes.” Picquery took one look at Percival’s outstretched hand, sneered at him and turned away. “If you’d follow me,” she said and started to walk through a maze of different hallways.

Once they arrived in her office and had taken their respective seats, Percy had to squint. The light from the window behind Picquery’s desk was incredibly bright and made it nigh impossible for Percy to meet Picquery’s eyes, much less make out her features.

“Percival was it, you said? You’re here for the purpose of a job interview, but I must inform you that you’ve already got the job,” she started in a less than amused voice.

Percy looked up at that information. That was good news indeed.

“Oh, thank you, Ma’am,” he was quick to say and tried flashing her a smile.

Picquery, on the other hand, was not impressed. “Do not let this get to your head, Percival. You have the job because you are the only applicant,” she explained tersely. “Apparently, the rumors have kept more _appropriate_ candidates from applying,” she added and pointedly quirked one eyebrow.

News traveled fast, Percy thought to himself, but tried to not let her antipathy affect him too much.

“I see you have done your research,” he said with a sad little chuckle. “However, this is totally unrelated to the quality of my work, which you will surely find satisfactory.”

“I suppose I will find out whether your work is acceptable or not by the beginning of next season,” she sneered. “You are expected to move in on Closing Day, which is October 30th. Our regular caretaker, Mr. Pringle, will tell you everything you need to know for the job on that day.”

Percy nodded and did his best not to react to her jabs at his ego. He bit his tongue and swallowed his anger down.

“However, there are a few details I should share with you,” Picquery added. “How familiar are you with the history of the Macusa Hotel?”

“Not much, I’m afraid,” Percival shrugged. “I know that it’s a popular destination for the East Coast elite, especially among New Yorkers.”

Picquery folded her hands in front of her and leaned forward. “You see, Percival, a few years ago, our winter caretaker went mad, no doubt a case of cabin fever. She’d brought her children with her and during the winter, she must have snapped somehow. Killed her daughters with an axe, locked her…never mind the details. She was a decent woman, disciplined, hard-working, seemingly perfectly _normal_. I want to ask you, Percival, whether you can guarantee that a similar incident won’t happen when you watch over the hotel in the winter?”

Percival gulped and eventually nodded. He didn’t have a family he could bring here, anyway. Staying alone at the scene where violent murders had taken place didn’t sound appealing at all, but he reminded himself that he needed the job.

The interview was concluded after another round of borderline invasive question from the hotel manager. Percy did his best to remind himself that he would not need to deal with Picquery during the winter. He’d be all alone in the Macusa Hotel, with no one there to sneer at him for failing to conform to society’s narrow standards of acceptable behavior.

After the interview, Picquery made no move to guide him back to the Entrance Hall and so Percy tried his best to find his way through the labyrinthine structure of the hotel on his own. A few minutes later, he had to acknowledge that he’d gotten lost. What a great way to start his job, he thought. Managing to lose his way in the very building he should be taking care of.

“Do you need help, Sir?” a voice behind him asked.

His helpless demeanor must have been obvious, Percy mused, and when he turned around, he came face to face with a staff member. It was a young man, or more of a boy really – he couldn’t be much older than twenty.

Percy nodded reluctantly.

“You’ve got a real maze down here,” he said, slightly ashamed at his own inaptitude. “Great start, getting lost on the first day I’m here, huh? Makes me wonder how I’ll survive the winter.”

The boy’s face lit up. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “You’re the new winter caretaker! The Manager already talked about you.”

“Did she?” Percy mumbled. God knew what Picquery told the staff about him.

The boy, however, seemed to be completely unaware of Percy’s preferences.

“What’s your name?” the boy asked. “I’m Credence.”

“Graves,” Percy said and held out his hand. “Percy Graves.”

Contrary to Picquery, Credence promptly shook his hand. They boy’s long fingers were cold against Percy’s skin.

“Good to meet you, Percy. I’m sure we’ll get along famously.”

Percy winced, but didn’t comment on the statement. Maybe he’d see the boy on Closing Day, but Picquery had been very clear – he’d be alone during the winter. It was probably better if he didn’t get acquainted with the boy. If he wasn’t careful, he might get attached.

“Can you show me to the entrance hall, Credence?” he asked.

“Of course,” Credence replied. “Just follow me. Don’t worry, you’ll find your way around soon enough. I know, it’s a bit confusing at first, it was the same for me when I started working here.”

By now they’d reached a hallway he thought he dimly remembered and he thought that he might find his way back on his own now. However, he allowed himself to indulge in Credence’s presence for a little while longer. He’d probably never see the boy again, a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

They’d reached the Entrance Hall faster than Percy would have liked. He thanked Credence for showing him the way to the exit. Credence smiled and told him that he looked forward to seeing Percy again.

“Yeah, sure,” Percy mumbled. Maybe he’d see Credence again on Closing Day, but that would be it. He’d have to make it through the winter alone.

 

**Closing Day**

October 30th came soon and Percy was standing in the Entrance Hall of the Macusa Hotel once more. All his belongings had fit into two travel bags, which he had slung across his shoulders.

The receptionist, a man named Abernathy, had told him to wait for the caretaker, Mr. Pringle in the Entrance Hall and that he must not do anything to disturb any of the remaining guests. It was clear that the rat-faced man shared Picquery’s opinion of Percy.

He hoisted his travel bags higher up on his shoulder and stood under the large chandelier, furtively sneaking glances at the people traversing the room, hoping he might spot Credence, but the handsome young man was nowhere to be seen.

Telling his brain to stop coming up with unrealistic scenarios was easier than he’d thought, because he was approached by an elderly man who introduced himself as Apollyon Pringle. Pringle, for a change, didn’t treat Percy like he was some sort of sub-human and showed him everything he needed to know for the job – it didn’t take a lot of skill, Pringle admitted, the real challenge was the loneliness and the seclusion during the winter. Percy wouldn’t have to worry about food or anything, as the kitchen storage room was stocked with food, but Pringle recommended Percy to make use of the little library the Macusa kept for its guests.

“Even if you’re not much of a reader, you’ll long for some distraction after a while, that I can guarantee,” Pringle concluded, after he’d showed him the caretaker’s apartment, where Percy was supposed to live for the next few months. It was a cramped and clammy apartment, far from the luxurious guest rooms of the hotel. “It’s not much,” Pringle admitted. “You get used to it, though.”

Percy nodded and deposited his belongings on the bed for now.

“It’s cozy,” he lied and Pringle scoffed in response.

“It’s a shithole,” the old caretaker replied and Percy snorted in laughter. “The guests live in luxury and the employees get rooms like this. It’s a shame, but there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Percy shrugged. “I’ll better try and get used to it, then.”

Pringle gave him a crooked smile which showed that the old man had only about half of his teeth left.

“You do that,” he said. “And try and figure out the room plan as fast as you can. The Macusa’s like a maze at first, it takes some time to find your way around.”

“Already noticed that,” Percy mumbled.

Pringle shook his hand and wished him luck for the winter before he left Percy in the apartment.

After having one more look around the apartment, Percy stepped into the hotel hallways again and thought that he’d use the rest of his afternoon to do just what Pringle had advised him to do – familiarize himself with the room plan of the hotel.

He wandered around the hallways for a while and then attempted to find his way into the Entrance Hall again. Percy only got lost twice and already counted that as a success. He entered the Entrance Hall eyes once again drawn to the overly large chandelier.

“There you are!” he heard a voice the other side of the Entrance Hall. “I’ve been looking for you, Percy!”

Percy goggled and stared at the figure at the other side of the room. Tall, dark-haired, handsome and all together the loveliest creature Percy had ever encountered.

“Credence,” he whispered and grinned, before he reminded himself that this might come across as inappropriate. Why was Credence still here? He’d thought the other employees had already left. Had the boy waited, just to see him once again? Percy swallowed and banished the thought. Credence deserved better than him.

By now, he had finished traversing the room and approached Credence.

“Shouldn’t you be gone already? Enjoying winter break or whatever it is that you ought to be doing?” Percy asked, keeping a little distance from the boy. With his luck, Picquery was still lurking around, ready to accuse him of making advances to her staff members.

Credence shook his head. “Oh no, I’m to stay with you over the winter break. Orders from Management,” he explained.

Percy’s face fell for a moment – Credence staying with him over the winter as a recipe for disaster. At least the hotel was large enough so Percy could avoid temptation for most of the time. He felt relieved for a short moment, but then he remembered the caretaker’s apartment. Living in close quarters with the beautiful boy in front of him would be difficult, no doubt about it. How was he going to pretend that he wasn’t interested in Credence? The whole charade was bound to implode spectacularly within a few weeks, of that Percy was sure.

“The caretaker’s apartment,” Percy began. “There’s only one bedroom.” And one bed, but he wouldn’t spring that fact on Credence just now.

Just as Percy expected, the boy scrunched up his nose in disgust, but to his immense surprise, only a few moments later, his face lit up in a smile once more.

“Are you really going to stay in those horrible rooms?” Credence asked. It almost sounded as if the boy was teasing him.

“Well, where else am I supposed to stay?” Percy retorted, feeling a bit foolish, as if Credence was purposefully withholding information from him.

“Oh, I don’t know, Percy, we’re only staying in a luxurious hotel for half a year!” Credence said and spread his arms, gesturing to the expensive and lavish décor that surrounded them.

The boy took his hand and led Percy over to the reception. He pointed to a cupboard, opened it and thus revealed all the room keys.

“You can have your pick,” Credence said, narrowed his eyes and started searching for the key he wanted. He snatched it up and dangled the key in front of Percy’s eyes. “I, for my part, will stay in the Presidential Suite.”

The boy made to leave, probably to inspect the suite, but Percy held him back.

“Do you really think this is a good idea, Credence?” he asked. “If someone finds out…”

“I’ve done this before,” Credence reassured him. “Management doesn’t mind and the guests will never find out. I think we deserve a little bit of luxury, considering how we’ll have to stay here for quite a long time.”

Perhaps Picquery didn’t mind Credence staying in a guest room, but she surely wouldn’t approve of Percy doing so as well. Then again, Credence’s only crime consisted of him being irresistibly pretty. He glanced over at the boy again. The way Credence smiled at him seemed to suggest that the boy knew exactly what Percy was thinking.

“You’ll come around soon enough,” Credence grinned and patted Percy’s arm. “Till then, enjoy the dingy caretaker’s apartment.”

Percy awkwardly cleared his throat. “I suppose taking a look at the Presidential Suite won’t hurt,” he said.

“Oh, I knew you’d change your mind,” Credence said. “Follow me.”

They made their way through the Macusa, Credence navigating the hallway maze with a sense of purpose that spoke of experience and dropping little tidbits of information about the hotel along the way.

He’d point to a staircase and say that this sister had skinned her knee there a few years ago, or he’d gesture to a whole corridor that had needed rebuilding due to a gas explosion not long after the war.

“How long have you been working at the hotel?” Percy asked, as Credence unlocked the door to the Presidential Suite.

“A few years now,” Credence answered. “I like it here.”

He opened the door.

“Voilà,” he said. “A bit better than the hole Picquery wants you to stay in, isn’t it?”

Percy nodded, taking in the large suite – it was probably the most luxurious set of rooms he’d ever set foot in over the course of his entire life.

“And there are two bedrooms, so your virtue is protected,” Credence added, which elicited a chuckle from Percy.

“I don’t think I had any in the first place,” Percy answered.

“That’s the spirit,” Credence laughed.

Percy took one more look at the beautiful boy and then went to get his travel bags from the caretaker’s apartment. Picquery’s judgment was off, now that he thought about it. She’d probably thought that it would be him who’d tempt Credence to break rules, not the other way around.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy encounters a ghost and Credence makes hot chocolate, not necessarily in that order, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm afraid this is the chapter where I give the whole plot away? I've never been good at fore-shadowing, sorry.

**Chapter 2**

**November 4 th**

After less than a week of working at the Macusa Hotel, Credence and Percy had begun to develop a routine. Pringle had been right, there wasn’t a whole lot to do, and so they split the workload evenly, with Percy doing the majority of the repairs in and around the building, while Credence took over cooking duties.

Percy had tried to cook once, and had almost set the kitchen on fire. After that incident, they’d both agreed that he’d mostly stay out of this part of the hotel, except for meal times.

It was still possible to venture outside and Percy had gone for a walk across the grounds twice so far, enjoying the scenic surroundings of the hotel. The first time, he’d asked Credence to join him, but the boy had declined. He was a summer person and didn’t like the cold, he’d said, and he preferred to stay inside.

“It’s very chilly outside, so I’ll have a hot chocolate ready for when you get back,” Credence proclaimed and Percy could have sworn that the boy winked playfully at him, but that might as well have been wishful thinking on Percy’s side.

On their third evening at the Macusa Hotel, Percy piled up wood in the open fireplace in the lounge room where they’d taken to spending their evenings and lit a fire. As Credence entered the lounge room and saw the fire, he’d raised an eyebrow and shot Percy a quizzical look.

“You seem to be freezing most of the time,” Percy said apologetically. “I thought you might like it a bit warmer.”

“Thank you,” Credence said softly, without any trace of his usual exuberance and curled up on a sofa in front of the fireplace. “You didn’t have to do that, you know?”

“It’s my pleasure,” Percy answered and sat down next to Credence, but still kept what he thought of as an appropriate, respectable distance. “May I ask how you got the job at the Macusa and why you’re staying over the winter? Don’t you have a family?”

Credence’s face fell at his words and Percy was quick to apologize for the intrusive inquiry.

The boy shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. For a moment, Percy idly wondered whether the black tresses were indeed as soft as they looked, but he quickly shook his head to clear his mind.

“I grew up in a very religious family,” Credence began. “When I think back to my childhood, I mostly remember being hungry and getting the belt for any minor offense, or sometimes just because Ma felt like it. She always hated me. We never had enough money and so Ma decided to take the winter caretaker job at the Macusa a few years ago. After that first winter was over, I found out that I had to stay at the hotel. I had nowhere else to go,” he finished and stared into nothing for a moment, evidently lost in thought.

“Oh,” Percy began, clearly fumbling for words.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Credence assured him. “I like living at the Macusa. When I first started working here, I was a very different person. My time at the hotel helped me grow up in a way and the Manager has always been very kind to me.”

Percy smothered a laugh. “Picquery hates me. I only got the job because I was the only applicant.”

Credence frowned for a moment. “Nobody else applied? That’s strange, the job used to be quite popular, actually,” he wondered, but then shrugged it off. “Well, it’s the Macusa, so it doesn’t come as a surprise to me. The rumors might have frightened other potential applicants away.”

Percy just made a non-committal noise, not quite sure what to say in response.

“So, why did you decide to apply for the job, then? Eager to find out whether the Macusa is really as haunted as they say?” Credence continued, in a lighter tone.

“I don’t believe in ghosts,” Percy retaliated. “No, it’s much less interesting than that. I used to work as a policeman, but I was fired and due to various circumstances, I couldn’t get a job in my hometown.”

Credence didn’t answer, just nodded, more to himself than to Percy and gazed absentmindedly into the flames. Percy didn’t mind the silence and sank back into the soft fabric of the couch. The warmth from the fire was making him feel drowsy.

“You know, if my father hadn’t been a drunk and a gambler and squandered the money that used to come with the Graves name, I could afford to stay in this hotel as a guest,” he offered after a few minutes.

Credence blinked and turned to face Percy once more. “Even in the Presidential Suite?” he teased.

“Probably not,” Percy admitted with a dry chuckle. “Now that I’ve grown accustomed to the Presidential Suite, I’m sure I’ll find the other rooms lacking in comparison and complain about every little thing like a proper snob.”

“Yes,” Credence agreed. “You wouldn’t believe the kind of requests we get from guests sometimes.”

“For example?” Percy asked and turned to face Credence as well.

“So, you know how the Macusa is a hotel that caters to the elite?” Credence began and lowered his voice, even if nobody could overhear them anyway. After Percy nodded, he continued: “I know that Picquery tries to appear all prim and proper, but it’s just façade. We’ve got more alcohol than anyone could ever hope to drink in the cellar and we’ve had guests ask for just about any kind of weird thing you can think of. Someone once asked for a full-body bear costume to be delivered to their room.”

“Full-body bear costume?” Percy echoed and winced. “Why?”

“At the Macusa, we generally follow a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy and Picquery has double standards. If you’re a guest at the Macusa, you can do whatever you want right under her nose, she won’t care as long as money exchanges hands. If you’re her employee, things are completely different,” Credence said. “Of course, compared to Ma, Picquery’s attitude still appears progressive and lenient,” he added.

“I haven’t even met your mother and I already don’t like her,” Percy remarked.

“You won’t meet her,” Credence replied. “She’s dead. She wasn’t my real mother, either, I was adopted. I’d rather not talk about her anymore, if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course, I’m sorry. Now that I think about it, how old are you?” Percy asked in a clumsy attempt to change the topic.

“I was born in 1902,” Credence answered and Percy raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

“You’re twenty-four? Really? You don’t look it,” he replied. He’d thought Credence was twenty, at the very most.

“And you are? Wait no, don’t tell me! Thirty-five? Forty?” Credence asked, completely ignoring Percy’s remark concerning his age.

“Thirty-eight,” he answered. “Too old to lose my job, too old to start all over again.”

“Come on, don’t feel sorry for yourself. Why did you lose your job?” Credence said with a pout that made Percy’s imagination go haywire.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Percy evaded the question. Credence seemed open-minded and tolerant so far, but as he’d said, he’d grown up in a religious household. Percy couldn’t imagine that he’d ever seen homosexuality portrayed as anything else than the devil’s work and the worst of sins. Come to think of it, he’d probably refer to it as sodomy.

“I understand,” Credence said softly. By now, Percy had come to realize that under his brash façade, he was a kind and sweet, at times almost shy, young man. It only made him appear lovelier in Percy’s eyes and he should really stop thinking about Credence this way.

“You know, whatever the reason, just forget about Picquery. She’s not here to judge you. I think you’re a good man,” Credence declared.

Percy didn’t know what to say in response to that, didn’t know how to explain to Credence that Picquery’s opinion of him had been shared by the vast majority of the population in his hometown. People who he’d known for years, who he’d thought of as friends suddenly regarded him with cold sneers and turned their back on him. Percy had only been hiding his true nature for all his life, so he should easily be able to keep his secret for a few months longer in Credence’s company.

“You don’t really know me, Credence,” Percy replied in an attempt to distance himself from the young man. “We’ve only known each other for about a week, don’t just make assumptions based on what little you have seen of me.”

“You’re not going to go crazy and turn into an axe murderer, are you?” Credence said in a weak attempt at a joke. The harsher words from before must have had an effect on the young man, as the brash attitude was quickly coming back, concealing any traces of vulnerability Credence had displayed earlier.

“I…no,” Percy answered slowly

“The Macusa’s seen far worse people than you, then,” Credence declared and gave him a grin that looked a bit insincere.

“I’d hope that in comparison with an axe murderer, I’d always come out on top,” Percy commented and tried not to think about the fate of the poor girls who’d been killed at the hotel. The other rumors about the Macusa came to mind and he tried hard not to think about them and how grateful he was that he would not have to spend the winter on his own.

Unless he’d already gone mad and Credence was nothing but a figment of his imagination, of course.

No, no, the boy was decidedly real and solid as he placed a hand on Percy’s shoulder.

“Regarding Picquery’s judgment, I’ll just let you know that she liked the woman who later turned into a murderess much better than she likes you. So I wouldn’t give a damn about her judgment, as it’s obviously very off” Credence said.

A sickening thought crossed Percy’s mind – had Credence perhaps known the maniacal woman? Had he known her daughters before they’d met their death?

“When did that incident even happen? I have heard a number of stories about the hotel, but this one sounded unfamiliar to me,” he said.

“Around the time I started working here,” Credence explained. “So, the winter from 1920 and 1921. Picquery did her best to keep it out of the papers, said she didn’t want to cause a scandal. Well, that’s hard to do when you’re managing a hotel full of ghosts.”

Percy scoffed. “You don’t really believe in the story of the haunted hotel, do you?”

Credence gave him a wry smile. “I’ve been here for years, Percy, which means I’ve seen a lot of strange things happening at the hotel. I’m sure the rumors you heard were exaggerated, but that doesn’t mean that there’s not a hint of truth to them, as well.”

“I don’t buy it,” Percy countered. “A haunted hotel? You must admit that it sounds crazy.”

Credence didn’t say anything for a long while, just stared at Percy with his almond-shaped eyes until he dropped his gaze.

“Just take care,” he said in a soft voice. “If you see something, you can talk to me about it. I won’t think you’re mad, I promise.”

“Alright,” Percy agreed, just to indulge Credence for a moment. Religious upbringing, he reminded himself again. An unhealthy dose of superstitious beliefs probably came with that as well. “I haven’t seen anything strange, weird or out of the ordinary so far.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” Credence asked and regarded him with a curious expression.

“Yes,” he laughed. “I’m very sure.”

After a long moment, Credence nodded to himself and curled up, basking in the heat that emanated from the fireplace. Percy looked at the bliss on Credence’s face and did his best to ignore his treacherous heart that beat just slightly faster whenever he saw Credence smile.

 

**December 2 nd**

After they’d settled into their routine, the days seemed to fly by. The more time Percy spent with Credence, the easier it was to ignore the way his heart felt as if it was ready to flutter out of his chest at any moment. He felt like a teenager again, fumbling and clueless as to how to behave in Credence’s proximity. Whenever Credence asked him something, Percy’s mouth went dry and the words fled his mind.

Today, Percy was inspecting the fourth floor of the Hotel, it was the children’s tract as Credence had told him. To Percy, it looked rather bleak, compared to the furniture in the regular guest quarters. Then again, compared to what Percy had been used to while growing up, it still would have seemed like paradise to him.

He moved from room to room, checking everything that might need fixing, slowly and meticulously working his way through the tract. Credence had promised him apple strudel in addition to regular dinner tonight and Percy couldn’t shake the thought of how strangely _domestic_ their whole situation was.

They ate their meals together, bickered in a friendly manner over one topic or another and in the evenings, more often than not, Percy would light a fire in the fireplace for Credence’s benefit and they’d either talk or read one of the novels in the hotel library. (Credence had forced _The Age of Innocence_ on Percy, who indulged Credence and had started to read the book.)

Percy made his way further down the corridors and couldn’t shake the sensation that he was being watched. Sometimes, he threw a glance over his shoulder only to find that nobody was there.

Of course nobody was there, he scolded himself. He was the only living soul in the hotel, except for Credence and Credence was down in the kitchen.

After he’d checked another room, Percy was sure he’d heard the faint laughter of a girl. He shook his head. Perhaps he needed to get more sleep or maybe he was indeed going crazy. Hearing voices, wasn’t that how it usually started?

He’d investigated the last room and was about to make his way down the stairs, when he heard a child-like voice call his name from behind him.

Percy froze on the spot and slowly turned around.

A girl was standing in the corner of the hallway. The girl looked about eight years old and had long blond hair. She was dressed in a cute blue dress with ruffles and was holding a baseball in her hands.

“Can you play with me, Percy?” she asked in an innocent voice.

He closed his eyes and opened them again experimentally, but the girl was still there.

“What is this?” he whispered and took a step backward in an attempt at retreat.

“It’s always so lonely over the winter,” the girl said and took a few steps in his direction. “You won’t leave, will you?”

A high-pitched, hysterical laugh escaped from Percy’s mouth and he took a few more retreating steps.

“Credence likes you. If you leave, he'll be very sad,” she continued. “I don't want you to make him sad.”

He blinked, and suddenly the girl was no longer standing upright, but lying lifeless in the corner, dressed in raggedy clothes, covered in blood. Her skull had been bashed in. Another blink and the hallway was empty once more.

He slowly went down the stairs, with wide eyes and slightly in shock. He was going crazy. He was having visions.

What Picquery had warned him about was starting to happen, cabin fever, no doubt about it. He’d quietly, inconspicuously gone insane and only just now noticed it. Percy didn’t know which option was scarier – was his mind playing tricks on him or was the hotel indeed haunted and he’d seen a real ghost for the first time in his life?

The girl had been murdered and hadn’t Picquery told him about axe murders? Maybe he was just having a nightmare? Experimentally, Percy pinched his arm, but he wasn’t asleep.

Half paralyzed, he went down into the kitchen to find Credence. He needed someone with him now, someone to assure him that his mind hadn’t gone completely around the bend.

“Percy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Credence called as soon as Percy entered the kitchen.

The young man made his way over to Percy. “What happened?” he asked, but Percival quickly laughed it off and made up some hare-brained explanation. Credence clearly didn’t believe him, but he let the topic drop.

“You still can talk to me about anything, you know that, right?” Credence said in an imploring voice.

Percy managed to give him a shaky smile, but was convinced that no, he couldn’t exactly speak with Credence about the horror he’d just witnessed.

He gulped down his fear and did his best to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Credence didn’t ask and after a few days, Percy was content to write the strange little girl off as a trick of his mind and didn't think about what the ghost had said about Credence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos make me smile and comments make me stupidly happy. So, should you want to brighten my day, leave me either (preferably both, of course ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence surprises Percy and the kitchen become scary territory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourself for the kitsch and my awkward smut writing, of which there'll probably be more in the next chapter.
> 
> I literally feel so ashamed for writing this, but I also can't seem to stop, so here we are...

**Chapter 3**

**Christmas Day**

Had Credence not hung a calendar on the door to the Presidential Suite and marked each day with a bright red X, Percival wouldn’t have known that it was Christmas. They had hardly acknowledged the festive date so far, there’d only been an exchange of “Merry Christmas” in the morning and that had been it.

Now, it was evening and Percy heard a knock on his bedroom door. Credence stepped into the room with a sheepish grin and held up a bottle of bourbon.

Percy sat up. “Where did you get that?”

“From Picquery’s secret liquor stash in the cellar,” he explained. “Want to celebrate Christmas properly?” At these words, he slightly shook the bottle so the amber liquid splashed from side to side.

Percy agreed against better judgment and soon he was moderately drunk, sitting on the king-sized bed with an equally inebriated Credence next to him.

“Percy? I want to know why you lost your job and why Picquery hates you,” Credence slurred. An enticing pink flush stained his cheeks and Percy had to restrain himself, lest he do anything he’d regret once he was sober again.

“Why do you want to know?” he murmured. If he told Credence the truth, the boy would flinch away from him and not look at him anymore until summer was here, of that he was sure.

“I’m just curious,” Credence answered. “You seem like such a good guy.”

Percy moved away from him. It was better to get it over with now, like ripping off a band aid. It would surely hurt less in the long run, and if he drained the remaining bourbon, he might even take the edge off the pain and humiliation that was bound to follow the revelation.

“I’m a homosexual, Credence, and I was fired because people found out,” he confessed in a hollow voice.

Credence hummed, but didn’t move away. “I suspected something like that,” he began.

“What gave it away?” Percy countered with a dry laugh.

He could feel Credence turning to look at him, but Percy refused to meet Credence’s eyes.

“Just look at you,” Credence said softly, without any trace of anger or condescension. “There you are, unmarried at almost forty, when you’re obviously a very attractive man…,” the boy trailed off.

Percy frowned. That was not at all how he’d imagined this conversation to go. Credence was supposed to be disgusted, wasn’t he, he should have flinched away and refused to set eyes on, much less speak with Percy for the rest of the winter. Instead the boy was moving _closer_?

“What are you doing, Credence?” Percy rasped, voice rough with ill-timed arousal due to Credence’s proximity.

“Can I ask you a question?” Credence mumbled, eyes heavy-lidded due to the alcohol and he pressed himself close to Percy. Their bodies were touching from shoulder to thigh.

Percy produced a pathetic strangled noise and simply nodded.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” Credence asked. “Do you like me?”

Percy laughed nervously and swore he could feel the boy running his hand over Percy’s thigh. Goddammit…

“Why do you want to know?” he managed to choke out.

“Because I like you a lot,” Credence replied. “Because I think you’re very handsome and because I want you.”

At this, he shifted and moved to straddle Percy.

“Credence,” Percy muttered in surprise, but his hands reflexively came up to rest on either side of Credence’s waist and he tried to pull him even closer.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Credence said and that was the only warning Percy got before Credence leaned down and pressed his mouth to Percy’s.

Percy was quite sure he was dreaming like he’d done so often before ever since he’d moved into the Macusa, dreaming of Credence’s slim body moving against his – but his dreams had never even come close to capturing the heady reality of how good Credence tasted and how perfectly he fit into Percy’s arms.

Percy groaned and flipped them over, so that he could be on top of Credence, just like he’d imagined so many times before.

“You’d better tell _me_ to stop,” he mumbled, before he resumed kissing the intoxicating creature under him. He could feel Credence smile against his lips as the boy readily spread his legs to give Percy better access. Percy was sure he had somehow died and heaven simply turned out to be a lot more sinful that Percy had expected.

They kissed and their inebriation only served to make things get messy. They moved desperately, as though they’d been deprived of touch and affection for all their lives and only now found a way to fill the emptiness in their souls. Percy pulled at Credence’s clothes, eager to get even closer to the younger man – at the first skin-to-skin contact, Credence moaned into Percival’s mouth and thrust his hips impatiently against Percival’s.

Percival moved to palm Credence’s erection through his pants and Credence’s head fell back against the pillow in delight, exposing his throat along with all the marks Percival had sucked into the pale, tempting skin.

Credence’s hands came up and worked the buttons of Percival’s pants open. He was quick – before Percival knew it, Credence had slipped a hand into his pants and wrapped his hand around Percival’s cock.

The alcohol made their movements uncoordinated, erratic and they chased their pleasure without finesse; sloppy and mindless, but with frantic determination. Their orgasms left them sleepy and the bourbon made them not mind the mess they’d made of each other.

The bourbon also rendered Percy’s mind pleasantly empty and none of his anxious thoughts at having given in to the temptation that was Credence reared their ugly head. He simply buried his nose in Credence’s hair and inhaled the calming scent of the younger man. Percy fell asleep with a smile on his face and a content Credence in his arms.

**Boxing Day**

Percy lay in bed and was hugging a sleeping Credence from behind, the young man’s slim body warm against Percy’s bare chest. Ah, so he was still dreaming, his sluggish brain supplied and no harm had ever come from indulging in dreams.

He rolled his hips against Credence’s bottom and felt a smile spread on his face. Credence pressed back with a delighted sigh and Percy was amazed at the vividness of his dreams. He repeated the action a few more times and could already feel himself getting hard.

“Feels good, Daddy,” Credence mumbled and shifted in Percy’s arms. Percy paused for a moment. Credence had never called him that in his dreams before. It took him a few more moments to determine that he wasn’t dreaming at all and he opened his eyes, just to come face to face with a sleepy Credence.

“Good morning,” Credence whispered and didn’t quite manage to meet Percy’s eye.

Percy stiffened and forgot to breathe for a moment. They’d gotten drunk last night, that much he could remember and somehow he’d ended up with his hands all over Credence, the one thing he’d wanted to avoid. Percy quickly moved away from Credence and buried his head in his hands for a moment, cursing his actions.

“Credence, I’m so, so sorry,” he said in a raspy voice. “None of this should have happened.”

“What do you mean?” Credence asked in a confused voice. “I thought you wanted me.”

“Well, yes, I do,” Percy admitted and cringed. “But I shouldn’t have acted on it. I should know better than that.”

Credence shook his head. “Do you have a blackout because of the booze?” he asked. “I wanted you to act on it. You did nothing wrong, in fact, I started it.”

“No, Credence, you don’t understand, I did everything wrong, I shouldn’t have touched you,” he tried again, but Credence was unperturbed by his protests.

“Percy, you only did what I wanted you to do since the day I first met you,” Credence confessed and started to crawl over to where Percy was sitting at the edge of the bed.

“You deserve better than me,” Percy muttered. “I’m too old and bitter for you.”

“Age,” Credence said as he wrapped his arms around Percy’s torso from behind, “is just a number.” He pressed himself close to Percy and the older man was startled as he could feel the hard line of Credence’s cock pressing into him.

“Do you feel what you do to me, Percy?” Credence mumbled, his breath hot against Percy’s neck.

Percy shivered and relaxed slightly. Either Credence wasn’t thinking clearly or a dream had just come true, he wasn’t sure yet.

“We very obviously want each other,” Credence continued. “It would be a shame if we didn’t act on it, don’t you agree?”

Percy Graves, face to face with temptation, was a weak man and so he gave in and leaned into Credence’s embrace.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mumbled, as Credence started to trail kisses down the side of his neck.

“Don’t say things like that, Percy,” Credence replied softly and continued his ministrations.

Over the course of the next few hours, they somehow managed to leave the bed, change the sheets and get dressed, albeit reluctantly. What had motivated them in the end, was the rumbling of both their stomachs and the need to eat.

Credence had whipped up the quickest meal he could think of and for the rest of the day, work was the last thing on their minds. They tried out the other bedroom in the Presidential Suite that night and Percy discovered that Credence loved giving head. When he pointedly asked him where he learned that, Credence simply blushed bright red and refused to answer, beside stammering that he hadn’t asked Percy about his previous lovers either.

“You haven’t been doing this with all the previous winter caretakers, have you?” Percy teased him.

Credence’s eyes widened and he started to laugh. “Of course not,” he said. “None of them were as handsome as you.”

**December 30 th**

It seemed that once Percy had gotten over the shock that Credence wanted him as well, a dam had somehow broken. He could hardly keep his hands to himself and felt giddy at the reactions he got from Credence.

They slowly started to learn each other’s bodies, how to give each other the highest possible amount of pleasure and Credence proved the be nearly insatiable. Truth be told, Percy had expected the complete opposite. The first time Credence had mentioned his strict upbringing, Percy had been worried that it would potentially influence Credence’s opinion of him the second he found out about Percy’s preferences.

Contrary to everything he had anticipated when he’d first taken the job and listened to Picquery’s thinly veiled insults, his stay at the Macusa Hotel looked as if it might turn out to be one of the happiest times of his life.

He and Credence were the only living souls at the hotel and consequently didn’t have to hide their desire for each other from anyone. It was a completely new experience for Percy and it was nothing but intoxicating. He could hold Credence’s hand whenever he wanted without attracting any undue attention and nobody was there to bat an eye at them when Credence decided to crawl into Percy’s lap and kiss him until they were both panting for breath and grinding against each other, desperate for release.

It was as if someone had decided to carve a safe haven into the mountainous landscape just for them, where they could live without being judged, without being told they were in the wrong when their hearts told them that what they felt was wholly right.

“Picquery doesn’t know about you, does she?” Percy had asked Credence once, alluding to his sexuality.

Credence had simply scoffed and retaliated that there were a lot of things that Picquery didn’t know about the hotel and that she only had a vague idea of what sometimes happened behind closed doors. That last comment had intrigued Percy and he’d wanted Credence to elaborate on that, but Credence had simply brushed it off by saying that didn’t matter and would Percy please get naked already.

Percy, of course, complied to Credence’s wishes, who had him wrapped around his finger without even trying. Caught up in the bliss of their new found feelings for each other, Percy didn’t even think about the future, didn’t consider what they were going to do in a few months, when the winter would come to an end.

Currently, Percy was preoccupied with venturing down into the kitchens. Credence, sated and sleepy, had said that he didn’t have the energy to cook something, and so Percy had offered to bring them food from the kitchen so that they could eat in bed.

He’d haphazardly thrown on some clothes and padded through the hallways, his shirt was untucked and only half buttoned. Percy didn’t pay close attention to his surroundings, mainly because at this point, he’d walked these hallways so many times that the floor plan of the Macusa Hotel seemed to have deeply embedded itself into his subconscious brain. His thoughts were already starting to stray back to Credence, who lay naked between the sheets in what had quickly become _their_ bedroom.

He entered the kitchen and started to rummage through the pantry for food that he could deliver to Credence. In the end, he settled for preparing a few basic sandwiches and took a bar of chocolate with him as well, for dessert.

As he worked in the kitchen, humming tunelessly to himself, he thought he saw someone standing in front of an oven out of the corner of his eye. Had Credence come down into the kitchen after him? When he turned around, there was nobody there and Percy frowned.

Perhaps he should invest into a pair of glasses once the winter was over, if only to make reading easier. He set the sandwiches down on a tray, the chocolate next to them, filled a pitcher with water and set two glasses down on the tray as well.

He picked up the tray and turned around to carry it up to their suite, but what he saw almost made his heart stop. It was only with immense difficulty that he avoided dropping the tray. When he blinked, the sight was gone again and with shaking hands, Percy set the tray down on the counter and sank to the floor. He tried to calm his rapidly beating heart and his breath came in terrorized pants.

It took him a few minutes until he dared to glance up at the spot on the floor where he’d seen the lifeless body of a heavyset, mustachioed man in a chef uniform. His face had been a grimace of pain.

At least this time, the ghost hadn’t talked to him, unlike the little girl. He barked out a laugh, devoid of humor and filled more with horror than anything else.

The hotel was making him lose his mind and he couldn’t let Credence notice that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos make me happy, but comments feed the muse, so if you want more of this AU, leave me a comment!
> 
> Say hello on tumblr, you can find me here: [@almost-annette](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/almost-annette).


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of smut and a bit of horror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More awkward smut writing? Why, yes, of course!
> 
> Also, a big thank you to everyone who's commented or left kudos on this fic - I love you all!

**Chapter 4**

**New Year’s Eve**

Percy had avoided telling Credence about the incident in the kitchen – there was bound to be an easy explanation for it all. Prolonged isolation, perhaps, or maybe the stress after the initial revelation of his sexuality and his new existence as a social outcast had done more damage to Percy’s mind than he’d thought.

Either way, it was nothing that Credence should worry about. Percy must have masked his shock at seeing the image of the chef’s corpse in the kitchen well enough, because Credence hadn’t suspected a thing when he’d finally delivered the food tray.

That night, he’d slept uneasily, holding Credence in his arms, always waiting to hear the young girl’s voice again, urging him to play with her.

Today, he went through his chores mechanically and put on a smile and happy façade whenever Credence was there to see him.

In the evening, Credence had vanished into the large, sprawling cellars of the Macusa with the cryptic words that he was going to look for something. Percy suspected that he was going to take another bottle of Bourbon from the secret liquor stash, but it turned out Credence had other things on his mind.

The boy – no, Percy should start thinking of him as a man, he was in his mid-twenties, after all – emerged from the cellar carrying a crate in his arms.

“Illegally imported champagne,” he explained as he set the crate down. “I found out where Picquery’s been hiding the good stuff.”

They couldn’t find ice cubes to chill it, and so they improvised – Percy ventured outside and filled two buckets with snow, which they used to chill the Champagne. The two men sat in the lounge room, sipped champagne and felt pleasantly decadent.

Credence, the blush staining his cheeks courtesy of the champagne, did a few impressions of snobby, complicated guests for Percy that left them laughing until their bellies started to ache. Eventually, Credence, who by now had crawled into Percy’s lap, set both their glasses down and reached into the front pocket of his pants.

“I was looking for something else besides champagne,” he confessed and bit his lip.

“So?” Percy said with a raised eyebrow and ran one hand over Credence’s slim waist.

Credence didn’t meet Percy’s eyes for a moment and Percy felt how he placed something in his hand. It was a small unlabeled jar. Percy unscrewed the lid and was startled to discover that the jar held lube.

“It’s supposed to make it easier,” Credence offered. “You…you know what I’m suggesting right?”

“I know what lube is used for,” Percy replied, throat dry and he glanced back and forth between the jar and Credence’s face.

Credence nodded and mumbled a slightly ashamed _Of course_ , before he continued: “I thought it could be my New Year’s surprise for you.”

Percy looked up at the beautiful young man perched in his lap, who looked so vulnerable at the moment and the implication hit him with full force.

He gulped and put the lid back on the jar. “Credence…,” he started, but Credence cut him off with a kiss, eager and desperate, just this side of too forceful.

For a moment, Percy indulged him, before he pulled back.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asked him.

Credence glanced down for a moment, before he met Percy’s eyes again.

“I’ve never had it done to me before,” he confessed. “But I want you to be the one to…I want you to be my first for this.”

Percy nodded and vowed to himself that he would make this as enjoyable for Credence as he possibly could.

“Alright,” he said and pressed a kiss to Credence’s already ravaged mouth. “I’ll make you feel so good.”

Credence smiled against Percy’s lips and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him as close as he could. There it was again, the old dilemma. They couldn’t get enough of each other and even the few layers of clothes they each wore seemed like too large a barrier between them. As much as Percy wanted to stay this way forever, with a lap full of eager Credence squirming on top of him, he had a better idea.

He stopped kissing him. Credence mewled at the loss and leaned down to mouth at Percy’s neck.

“I say we take this to the bedroom,” Percy rasped.

Giddy with excitement and the few glasses of champagne they’d each had, they chased through the hallways of the hotel, losing most of their clothes along the way. Credence had been faster than Percy, having apparently taken some shortcut Percy wasn’t yet aware of – when Percy made his way into their bedroom, Credence had already shed the last of his clothes and lay naked atop the sheets, a lazy smile on his face and slowly stroking his cock.

“Who said you could start without me?” Percy growled and Credence smile turned playful for a moment.

“Not my fault getting to the room took you so long, Daddy,” he pouted and slowly spread his legs wide like an invitation. Ever since the moniker had first slipped out of Credence’s mouth, Percy couldn’t get enough of Credence calling him that during sex. He grinned and quickly took off his socks and underwear, ready to pounce on his young lover.

“You took the jar with you?” he asked and joined Credence on the bed.

Credence reached towards the nightstand and held up the jar. Percy took it from him and placed it near his vicinity.

“Are you going to...?” Credence asked, but somehow didn’t seem to find the courage to finish the question.

Percy slid a hand under Credence’s chin to make the younger man look at him. “I’m going to prep you,” he said and Credence smiled uncertainly at him. “I’ll make you feel good,” he added. “Still, if something feels wrong, if it hurts or if you want to stop for whatever reason, you need to tell me and we’ll stop, alright?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Credence whispered and gave him another smile, more confident this time.

“Such a good boy,” Percy praised him and began kissing his way down Credence’s torso, until he came face to face with the young man’s cock, which was already leaking precome. He ran his tongue over the head once, before he unscrewed the lid of the jar and slicked up his fingers.

He returned to the task at hand of sucking Credence off and began to tease his entrance with one slick finger until Credence started to relax. Percy slowly pressed his finger deeper into the boy and had his mouth not been too preoccupied, he’d have grinned at the reaction he got from Credence.

As soon as he’d added a second finger and given Credence time to adjust, Percy pulled his mouth off Credence’s cock. Credence keened at the loss of the wet warmth surrounding his cock and to make up for it, pushed his hips forward and down, trying to take Percy’s fingers even deeper inside him.

Percy smirked and curled his fingers, rubbing them over Credence’s prostate. Credence’s head fell back against the pillows and he produced a series of high-pitched, needy noises as Percy continued to abuse his prostate.

“Go ahead, touch yourself, baby,” Percy ordered and added a third finger. Credence complied, took himself in hand and frantically stroked himself. “Come for me,” Percy whispered into Credence’s ear and only moments later, he could feel Credence tense up and spill his release. The boy licked his own hand clean without any prompting from Percy and he muffled a groan at the display.

Percy was painfully hard by now and couldn’t ignore his own cock much longer. He added a fourth finger, opening Credence up as thoroughly as possible to spare him as much discomfort as he could. He saw that Credence was getting hard again, bless the youth’s short refractory period. After a few more rubs over Credence’s prostate which had the boy bucking his hips up to meet Percy’s fingers, he pulled them out.

Credence needed a few moments to orient himself and stared up at Percy, pupils blown out so wide, his eyes looked almost black. A phrase came to Percy’s mind, but he managed to choke the words down.

“If you could see yourself now,” he said instead. “So gorgeous.”

He slicked up his own cock and lined himself up with Credence’s entrance.

“Is this okay?” he asked, suddenly self-conscious.

Credence clutched at Percy’s shoulders and whined. “Yes, please, fuck me already.”

Well, who was Percy to deny his boy anything if Credence begged so very prettily?

He pushed inside slowly, muffling another curse over how good Credence felt, how tight, and instead tried to focus on Credence’s face. His mouth was fixed in a permanent silent ‘Oh’ and there was a slight furrow to his brow. His eyes were closed.

“Are you alright?” he asked and paused, cock halfway buried in the slim body beneath him.

Credence confirmed that he was okay and Percy pressed further inside. Once he was fully inside, he gave Credence time to adjust to the sensation. The young man was looking up at him with slightly unfocused eyes, stared at him in awe, almost as if Percy were someone worth admiring.

“Move,” Credence begged him and Percy didn’t need to be told twice. After a few half-awkward tries, they managed to establish a rhythm and Percy found an angle that allowed him to more often than not hit Credence’s sweet spot.

“So good,” Percy found himself cooing into his lover’s ear. “So good for Daddy.”

Credence met Percy’s thrusts with his hips and after a little while longer buried in the impossible heat of Credence’s supple body, Percy came with a strangled noise.

He spent a few moments more in Credence, before he started to pull out. Credence, mind addled with lust, keened at the sudden empty feeling and Percy moved to suck Credence’s still hard cock. It took only a few moments of stimulation and Credence came down Percy’s throat.

Percy swallowed, making an exaggerated grimace at the taste, which prompted Credence to let out a breathless laugh.

“Do you want more champagne to get rid of the taste?” he mumbled and Percy crawled up the length of Credence’s body. More champagne sounded nice, but he wasn’t going to risk another ghostly encounter like yesterday.

He shook his head. “I’m going to draw us a bath,” Percy announced and got up from the bed. “We made quite a mess of each other.”

Credence watched him with bleary eyes as he exited the room.

After a few moments in the bathroom, Percy came back. “Are you coming or not? The bathtub is big enough to fit two people.”

A content smile spread over Credence’s features and Percy was convinced that he’d never looked more beautiful than in this very moment – ravaged, ruined and completely and utterly sinful.

At this point, the realization that he’d do anything for his beautiful boy didn’t exactly take Percy by surprise.

 

**January 8 th**

Each day that Percy woke up with his arms around Credence had him blessing his decision to apply for a job at the Macusa Hotel.

(On one memorable morning, he’d been woken up by Credence’s pink lips wrapped around his cock and hadn’t that led to a wonderfully unproductive day.)

The workload of the actual caretaker job seemed more like annoying chores than ever and the two men had to work in completely different parts of the hotel, otherwise they’d get distracted by each other’s bodies within mere minutes.

Today, Percy had swapped repairs on the fourth floor (the children’s tract with the ghost of the murdered girl, he shuddered to remember) for cleaning duties in the Entrance Hall.

It was of little use to clean the windows before the weather was any better (by now, they had a snow storm every few days) and so Percy focused on scrubbing the floor with the distinctive tilework.

He’d never admit it to Credence, but he was starting to dread it when he had to spend time on his own in the hotel. After two outright encounters with what Percy could only refer to as ghosts, he’d mulled over his thoughts and acknowledged that he had been indeed experiencing other strange phenomena, even though they were hardly as shocking as the times he’d thought he’d seen dead people.

Sometimes, he was sure he could hear footsteps moving through the hallways that didn’t match neither Percy’s nor Credence’s step pattern. Even more disconcerting, from time to time Percy thought he heard the sound of hushed voices in heated discussion before he entered a room, just low enough for him to not be able to make out any specific words. Each time he entered the room, then, he found the room empty as it should be.

It was nerve-wracking and the sole reason to look forward to the summer was that he wouldn’t have to stay in the creepy hotel any longer. His lover’s presence calmed him and took his mind off anything that wasn’t related to Credence and all the wonderful things the boy made him feel.

By now, Percy had moved on to cleaning the large mirrors in the Macusa’s Entrance Hall. He was humming tunelessly to himself, the melody of a song his mother had used to sing when he’d been a child. She’d always sung it in Irish, that Percy remembered, but he’d never learned the language himself. The Graves family was American, as his father had used to say, and they would damn well speak English.

Apparently, his father’s pride in his name hadn’t diminished alongside the money and the status, even though Percy could clearly remember that they’d seemingly always been moving to ever smaller, more cramped apartments during his childhood.

He cleaned mirror after mirror, moving through the motions mechanically after a while and let his thoughts drift to Credence. He smiled quite involuntarily and looked up into the mirror, examining a quite prominent love bite on the side of his neck that an enthusiastic Credence had left there the night before.

Percy smile widened into a grin and he thought that he’d go and find Credence as soon as he was finished with the mirrors, but when he looked into the mirror again, his blood ran cold.

There was his reflection, the face of Percy Graves, familiar the graying temples and strong eyebrows and behind him was the large chandelier looming like the sword of Damocles over his head.

However, the mirror showed him something else as well – Percy was no longer alone in the Entrance Hall. He could clearly see two people standing behind him in the mirror. A man dressed in an elegant suit of the sort Percy could only ever hope to own, his hair slicked back as he stood tall regarded Percy with a curious expression. He looked a few years younger than Percy. On his arm he had a pretty, petite woman who had her eyes narrowed at Percy, giving him a calculating stare. They made a rather beautiful pair, was his first thought, before the horror set in.

Percy whirled around and the image changed. In front of him were no longer the handsome man with his pretty wife or girlfriend, or he supposed they still were, but they had changed.

The woman’s face was covered with blood from a cut on her forehead, and her right arm was twisted at an unnatural angle. Her clothes had changed, she was no longer wearing the fashionable flapper dress, but rather something that looked like dirty, torn hiking clothes. The man’s clothes had morphed into a bathrobe and he had a gunshot wound at his temple.

Most disconcerting was the fact that the two were still watching him, eyes not as unseeing or dead as they should be. Percy retreated as far back as he could, which was half a step until his back hit the mirror behind him.

The moment he started to glance around for possible escape routes the specters were gone and he did his best to calm his breath. He didn’t know how Credence could stand the hotel, he didn’t know how any of the staff could stand the hotel, how any of the guests didn’t flee in terror the moment they saw a sight like the one just now.

He fought down his fear as best as he could and went up into the fourth floor to look for Credence, even though he felt like breaking down. Percy couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, but he very much wanted to do so right now.

The rumors were true, then, he thought – the Macusa Hotel was haunted and it drove people insane. After all, Percy was experiencing it first-hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments and I'd really like to know what you think about the fic so far! I'd love to know if you've got any theories on what's going on at the hotel (because I'm curious)! Also, do you want more smut? Because I've got a little filler chapter in my outline that has only a tiny, but very important plot point in it and I could write the chapter filled with discussions/dialogue or with smut, let me know what you'd like to see!
> 
> (Also, a bit of an unrelated question, but since I'm pretty much clueless with the rating system here: Is the M rating appropriate for this? Should the rating be lower? Higher?)
> 
> Find me on tumblr: [@almost-annette](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/almost-annette).


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Macusa Hotel back story and shameless (albeit belated) Valentine's Day fluff. Oh, and a dash of horror, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you spot the Shining references? (Hint: There are two.)

**Chapter 5**

**January 29 th**

It took Percy a few weeks to muster up the courage to do ask Credence about the strange incidents at the Macusa Hotel. He planned on asking Credence whether he had ever seen anything strange happen in the hotel and encourage him to share his paranormal experiences first – once he knew what Credence had experienced, Percy could decide if his own stories sounded crazy in comparison or not.

It was evening. The two men were in the lounge room once more. Percy was sitting on the couch and Credence was resting his head on the other man’s thigh.

Percy cleared his throat.

“Credence, you once told me that you’ve seen strange things happen at the hotel,” he started.

Credence hummed an affirmative and turned his head to look up at Percy.

“What happened? Seen a ghost?” he asked.

“Not quite,” he answered. “I believe you finally piqued my curiosity, so to speak. What about the rumors? Is there anything weird going on at the Macusa, what do you think?”

Credence stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, before he slightly nodded to himself.

“I’ll go and fix us drinks,” he said as he got up. “I’ve a feeling we’ll need them for this conversation.”

He disappeared into the direction of the kitchen and Percy watched him leave. Much to his delight, Credence had taken to wearing clothes which accentuated his slim build and seeing him dressed like that always left Percy a bit breathless.

A few minutes later, Credence returned with a glass of bourbon for each of them. Percy had initially thought Credence to be a beer or a wine drinker, if even that, but he’d soon found out that Credence could drink hard liquor as if it was mere water.

Credence took a first, tentative sip of his bourbon and started to tell Percy about the Macusa Hotel.

Apparently, it never should have been a hotel at all.

“It was devised as a very modern and progressive sanatorium,” Credence explained. The architect and mastermind behind the Macusa had dreamed of creating a safe space that was completely different from the asylums that usually resembled prisons more than hospitals. The Macusa should have helped people recuperate and help them to find more happiness in life.

The Macusa had been built, but once construction had been finished and the various sponsors inspected the building and the spectacular landscape around it, they’d decided to convert it into a luxurious hotel, very much against the architect’s wishes.

The architect had protested against their decision to try and make profit off a place that should have helped people improve their lives, but they nonetheless turned it into a hotel.

“He was young, idealistic and he just wanted to help people,” Credence said in a soft voice. “The fact that they transformed it into a hotel destroyed him. He committed suicide here not long after the hotel was opened for business in 1916. It was the first tragedy to strike the Macusa.”

Things had allegedly gone relatively well until about after the war. The Macusa had gotten a new chef who’d been to Europe as a soldier and the war had left him traumatized. He’d used to wake up with shaking hands during the night, convinced that he was back on the battlefield and that his life was in danger.

One night, he swallowed poison down in the kitchen and the staff found him the next morning. A few months later, a corridor of the staff tract exploded due to a gas leak, injuring several members of the staff and killing a chambermaid and a cook.

“That was in 1920,” Credence said. “Just before I came here with my family.”

He didn’t go into detail about the axe murders, as he’d already told Percy about them once.

In 1923, Carole Shaw, the young wife of Senator Henry Shaw, lost her life at the Macusa Hotel.

“She died in a hiking accident in the mountains surrounding the hotel. She was pregnant with their first child at the time,” Credence explained.

Senator Shaw had been devastated by his wife’s death and had grown into a cold, calloused man, whose life only consisted of politics and nothing more. Last year, he’d come back to the Macusa as a way of mourning his wife, but had shot himself after a few days at the Hotel.

Percy shuddered and took a large sip of his bourbon. So far, he thought he’d seen one of the murdered daughters of the winter caretaker a few years before him, the chef and the Senator with his wife.

“They say the hotel drives people insane,” Percy said. “When you tell stories like that, I can almost believe it.”

Credence shook his head. No, he said, he thought it was different. In his opinion, the Macusa simply attracted a certain sort of character. “Broken people,” Credence clarified. “Broken people in need of a safe place. Now, the Macusa is not a sanatorium, but a hotel and so nobody can help you with your problems. Things tend to happen…”

Percy would probably never refer to murder, suicides and lethal accidents as ‘things’, but he at least could see where Credence was coming from.

“So, I’m broken?” he quipped. “You know, because I decided to work at the Macusa?”

Credence, however, didn’t take it as a joke.

“You’ve been hiding who you are and what you want for years,” Credence said softly and looked at him with a wistful expression. “You’ve been playing a role for all your life, tricking everyone into thinking you’re someone you’re not. That’s not healthy.”

Percy shrugged and had to acknowledge that Credence was right, in a way.

“But it’s the same for you, isn’t it? I’m sure homosexuality was as much a taboo for you as it was for me.”

Credence blinked. “It used to be,” he replied. “It got better.”

“How?”

“I’ve got you now, haven’t I?” he replied with a wide smile.

Christ, the things seeing Credence like that did to Percy. He’d never had a stable relationship. How could he, it wasn’t like in the big cities with the famous people where things like homosexuality might be overlooked or tolerated. All of Percy’s previous romantic encounters had been short and focused on the physical more than anything else. From hormone fueled, hasty handjobs in broom closets at Ilvermorny School for Boys to gruff, sweaty encounters that in his memory mostly consisted of muffled curses and fast, shallow thrusts – everything paled in comparison to what he had with Credence.

“Yeah,” Percy mumbled. “You’ve got me.”

Credence grinned, snuggled close to him and quickly dozed off.

 

**Valentine's Day**

Credence woke him with enthusiastic kisses and a “Happy Valentine’s Day, Percy!”. He returned it and it was already quite evident that they wouldn’t get any work done today.

They didn’t spend more than a few hours in bed, though they spent most of the day in each other’s arms.

In the afternoon, Credence took his hand and told Percy that he wanted to show him a special place in the Macusa Hotel. It turned out to be the back of a staircase in a rather remote part of the hotel.

“It’s where all the proper young women go to kiss their suitors, lest someone spot them,” he explained. “The staff has the order to walk by the spot several times a day and disturb anyone who engages in ‘lewd and lascivious behavior’.”

Percy laughed.

“Why? Is Picquery afraid an heiress might get knocked up?”

Credence looked at Percy with a suspiciously innocent expression.

“I usually direct the couples to the nearest broom closet for privacy,” he confessed without sounding guilty at all.

“You little shit,” Percy remarked, but Credence only nodded and beamed. “And proud of it, too,” he added with an exaggerated scowl.

“Hey, it’s also one of the few places where the staff can get a respite from Picqery, so of course we’re going to be protective of it,” Credence interjected. “But look here,” he added and showed Percy that the back of the staircase was covered with what at first sight looked like scratches.

Percy squinted (damn, he should really get those glasses once the winter was over) and could make out the names of people in the dim surroundings. He couldn’t read all of them but from what he could see, the staircase was the Macusa Hotel’s equivalent to trees in which teenage sweethearts carved their names in the hopes that it would last forever.

He looked at the staircase for a few moments, trying to identify names. There were “N + T”, “WENDY + JACK”, “JACOB LOVES QUEENIE” and many, many more. Percy dimly wondered how many of these relationships had lasted.

Just as he was about to turn away, he realized why Credence had brought him here. He gulped down a bout of anxiety that threatened to rise in his throat and turn everything sour and turned to look at Credence, who was barely able to conceal his excitement.

“You want to put our names there, don’t you?” he asked.

Credence tried to deny it at first, claiming that he’d never do something so sappy if Percy didn’t want it.

“No,” Percy insisted. “You wouldn’t have brought me here otherwise.”

Credence bit his lip and shuffled his feet. He was shy and kind for almost all the time by now, an indication that this was his true personality and not the exuberant façade he usually put on for other people to see.

“It’s ok,” Percy said. “I’ll go get a knife from the tool box and we’ll put our names up there. I imagine Picquery will get the shock of her life if she ever sees this. Be right back, doll.”

He left after a chaste kiss to Credence’s lips and just barely kept himself from jogging through the hallways. He did his best not to linger anywhere to long if he didn’t have to. If Percy was quite honest with himself, the only times he felt safe in the hotel by now were when he was with Credence.

If he spotted just one more ghost, he’d probably start counting down the days before he could leave this godforsaken place.

Percy reached the room in which he’d left his toolbox, opened it and was just about to search for suitable tools, when he noticed a definite oddity. A stack of letters was in his toolbox – he was certain that he hadn’t put them there.

He chuckled as a thought came to mind – had Credence perhaps put them there? Maybe they were love letters and an awkward attempt at romance from Credence’s side?

Percy looked over the letters and saw that they were all addressed to the Macusa Hotel, not to him, and had been sent by various men and women, none of them being Credence. There were at least ten or twelve letters in the stack. Percy opened the first one and as soon as he’d skimmed over the first few lines, he had to grab a chair and sit down. His lunch was threatening to make a very sudden reappearance.

The letter had been sent by a Mr. Charles Grady, who had applied for the winter caretaker job at the Macusa, just like Percy. But that surely couldn’t be – Picquery had explicitly told him that he’d been the only applicant! He couldn’t see how the woman could have lied to him, considering how she had been very clear on the fact that she’d rather have employed anyone else but Percy. Credence, too, had commented that the job was popular and that it was extremely unusual to just get one single applicant.

He opened the other letters and each of them contained an application letter, much like the one he’d written himself.

“How?” he whispered to himself, aghast at the evidence in black and white in front of him that something strange must have happened to get him the job. How had the other application letters not come to the attention of Picquery or any of her subordinates? The letters clearly hadn’t been delivered to the wrong address, otherwise they wouldn’t be at the Macusa right now.

Someone must have sorted through the mail and taken all the application letters except for Percy’s in order to ensure that he was going to stay for the winter. But how and why?

For a moment, Percy thought about showing the letters to Credence, but quickly decided against it. The boy was so caught up in their bliss, probably eagerly awaiting Percy’s return, that he didn’t want to shatter the little bubble of happiness that surrounded Credence. Percy wasn’t exactly stupid, he’d seen the scars that littered Credence’s body, most prominent on his back. After the abuse he must have endured at the hands of his mother, the perpetual fear he’d lived under, Percy just wanted to shelter him from anything in the Hotel that might be malicious.

With a growing sense of dread, Percy realized that maybe this was the case, maybe the ghosts weren’t the real danger. Maybe the Macusa itself was evil. At any rate, something had gone to great lengths to ensure that he and nobody else got the job and would be living alone with Credence over the course of the winter.

Percy slowly exhaled and shoved the letters in a cupboard, intent on examining them some more later on, before he picked up the right tool from the toolbox and returned to Credence.

By the time Percy got back, Credence was already impatiently tapping his foot and pouting.

“Took you long enough,” he sulked.

Percy awkwardly ran his hand through his hair and explained that he hadn’t remembered where he’d put the toolbox. Credence accepted the explanation and designated an empty spot he’d found on the staircase. He took the knife from Percy and started to carve “CREDENCE B” into the dark lacquered wood. As soon as he was finished, he passed the knife to Percy, who scratched a “+” and “PERCY G” underneath Credence’s name.

“There, baby,” he chuckled. “For all the world to see.”

Credence gave him a smile. “I lo-,” he started, before he stopped himself. “I really like you,” he said and hugged Percy.

A lump formed in Percy’s throat and he pressed a kiss to Credence’s forehead.

“Me too,” he said and hoped Credence would understand the meaning. “Me too.”

Percy later went back to the room where he’d left the toolbox and inspected the cupboard into which he’d stuffed the letters, but he couldn’t find the letters anymore. It was as if they’d never existed in the first place.

He took a long look around the room and felt the urge to punch a wall. Someone or something in the hotel was playing tricks on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments give me the necessary motivation to write more, so please let me know what you think about the fic so far!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no chill, so have a new chapter. I honestly don't know if this is good or bad, let me know what you think, please.

**Chapter 6**

**March 3 rd**

After the incident with the letters, Percy was even more wary of the hotel and swore to himself that he’d take Credence far away from the accursed hotel as soon as the winter was over. They’d have to go to a place where nobody knew them and hide the true nature of their relationship from prying eyes, of course, but at least there wouldn’t be any ghosts haunting them.

It was hardly realistic to live on love alone (and by now, Percy had little doubts that that was what they felt for each other), but they would find a way. Somehow. He knew they would. Perhaps he could introduce Credence as his nephew if they moved into a new neighborhood so suspicions wouldn’t arise? It would…

…feel horrible, compared to the freedom they were currently experiencing in the hotel, Percy was painfully aware of that. All he knew was that he didn’t want to lose Credence. Percy had never thought of himself as a romantic or susceptible to falling head over heels in love with anyone, not until kind, sweet Credence Barebone had come along and turned Percy’s world upside down.

Percy had thought it over again and again over the last few weeks and he determined that moving into a new neighborhood was still the most feasible option, because Picquery would hardly let him stay at the hotel if she even suspected that he and Credence had something going on with each other.

Their situation was less than ideal – almost a shame that they’d fallen for each other in the most favorable of circumstances. Percy wasn’t quite sure whether their relationship, if that was what it was, could take a period of hiding, secrets and playing pretend for their peers. After a while, Credence would surely be fed up with him and Percy wouldn’t be able to blame him when it happened – half the time, he was still quietly wondering what he’d done to deserve Credence and what a pretty young thing like him found attractive in an old grump like Percy.

Well, no use worrying now, it hadn’t even happened yet. Credence was still as besotted with him as he was with Credence and the bitter reality of their situation hadn’t yet started to poison the bubble of happiness they’d built around each other.

Credence was bound to realize it soon enough, though, he wasn’t stupid, and that was a conversation Percy was not looking forward to having.

He’d come to the Macusa with nothing left to lose except for his life and he’d realized weeks ago that things had changed. Percy had found another thing he might lose – Credence. He was no longer sure which of the two was more important to him.

 

**March 24 th**

Percy woke up to an empty bed, which had become a very unusual occurrence in the last few months. He rolled out of bed, threw on a few clothes and went to look for Credence. He found him just in front of the door to their suite. He was a teary mess.

“What is it?” Percy said and attempted to pull Credence into his arms. Credence, for his part, didn’t let himself be held for more than a couple of moments before he twisted away and gestured dejectedly to the calendar on the suite door.

Each day that had already gone by since Closing Day was marked with a red X and a black exclamation mark indicated the day the first staff members were going to move back into the hotel; April 23rd.

“We’ve got less than a month left,” Credence said and his voice trembled in a way that triggered all of Percy’s protective instincts at once.

“Credence,” he mumbled. “It’s alright. We’ve always known this was going to happen.”

He reached out and wanted to touch Credence, but Credence flinched away from him. A hurt look crossed Percy’s face, but he tried to fight it down for the boy’s sake. At least one of them needed to be realistic right now.

“No, it’s not okay!” Credence protested. “The staff will come back and you’re going to leave, aren’t you?”

Percy fumbled for a moment, not sure what to say.

“You know as well as I do that Picquery wants nothing more than to finally be rid of me. I don’t think she’ll let me stay any longer than she absolutely has to.”

Credence bit his lip and shot Percy a hopeful look. “I’m sure if you talked to the Manager…,” he started.

“She damn well hates me, Credence,” Percy cut him off. They couldn’t get caught up in dreams or surreal fantasies, they had to focus on the facts.

Credence nodded and hunched over, looking smaller and sadder than Percy had ever seen him before.

“I understand,” he gasped out. “I’m not enough to make you stay, is that it?”

Percy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but Credence’s slouch only intensified.

“No,” he was quick to reassure him. “No, that’s not true. Credence, you can’t honestly believe this…”

A sob from Credence simultaneously put an end to Percy’s stammering and almost broke his heart. Percy took hold of Credence’s left hand and threaded their fingers together. Credence was freezing again; his hand was cold as ice. He soothingly ran his thumb back and forth over Credence’s skin until he started to relax slightly.

“Let’s sit down, alright?” Percy suggested and gently guided Credence to sit down on the floor, leaning against the wall behind him for support.

“See, Credence, I’ve been thinking that we could go somewhere after the winter. Maybe we’ll go to a town where no one knows us. We could start a new life together. I know it’ll probably be a lot less luxurious than the Presidential Suite at the Macusa, but at least we’d be together.”

Credence looked up at his words and slowly started to shake his head.

“Percy,” he began. “That would be nice, but I don’t…you know that I can’t leave this place, right?”

Being told that Credence didn’t want a life with him, didn’t even want to _try_ to build something that would last beyond their mad stay at the Macusa Hotel felt like a slap in the face. A small part of Percy wasn’t surprised and had already suspected that Credence would grow bored with him sooner rather than later.

“You can’t or you won’t leave this place, Credence?” he asked thoughtlessly, more hurt bleeding into his voice than he’d planned. “If you didn’t want to continue this after the winter is over, you could have told me, we’re both adults, there’s really no reason to go about this the roundabout way.”

“No, Percy, that’s not…that’s not what it’s like,” Credence protested. “I can’t…if you decide to leave, then I can’t come with you.”

“Why?! What are your reasons?” he yelled, hurt, frustrated and confused. “What’s keeping you here?”

Credence wanted to answer, but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle another sob and wrenched his other hand away from Percy’s grasp. Without another word, he quickly stood up and broke into a run down the hallway.

Percy stared after him until he’d lost sight of Credence and felt numb. Something was clawing at his chest, at his heart and he felt like a monster.

“As you should,” he thought, because during their pointless arguing over something that hadn’t even happened yet, he’d managed to hurt Credence, the one thing he’d sworn he’d never do. He’d made Credence cry – Percy promptly got up and tried to determine where Credence might have gone.

The hotel was huge, with a bit of bad luck he could search for Credence all day and not find him. Percy went through the hallways, listened for any sounds that might indicate Credence’s presence and periodically called his name along with “I’m sorry”. He truly was – he’d let his stupid emotions get the better of him.

Credence, of course, had been right now that he thought about it and Percy felt disgusted with himself for speaking so harshly to him. Credence’s argument had made much more sense than Percy’s and it was only now that he recognized it. He hadn’t even tried to talk to Picquery, he’d only just assumed that she hated him – perhaps she’d really let him stay, perhaps Credence had information Percy didn’t know about, perhaps Pringle wanted to retire (he was an old man, after all) and Percy could take his job?

Credence, for whatever reason, was very fond of the hotel and didn’t want to leave the place where he’d felt free for the first time in his life, as he’d told Percy one evening. It was all understandable, and yet so hard to accept – he shouldn’t have spent the last few weeks dreaming up ever more unlikely scenarios in his head and not discuss them with Credence.

Percy jogged through the hallways, periodically calling out Credence’s name. He reached the staircase that descended down to the first floor, but at the top of the stairs, he must have stumbled. Percy lost his footing and only narrowly avoided tumbling down the stairs.

Percy caught himself on the banister and took a moment to catch his breath. He needed to be more careful, he thought as he glanced down the stairs. If luck hadn’t been on his side, he could have sustained grave injuries, practically a death sentence with no doctor around to treat them.

Percy cautiously made his way down the stairs into the Entrance Hall – there was still no sign of Credence. Helplessly, he turned every which way, trying to decide into which direction he should head to continue his search. The Macusa Hotel was a massive structure and Credence could be anywhere. Taking into account the number of years Credence had worked and lived at this place, he certainly knew his way around the building better than Percy.

He was disturbed in his thoughts when he heard a clinking and jangling above him. Percy looked up – the gigantic chandelier he stood under was swinging from side to side, moved by some unseen force and Percy had the uncanny premonition that it might crash down onto his head at any moment.

As quickly as he could, he jumped to the side and the chandelier stopped its dangerous swinging as suddenly as it had begun.

Percy gulped and forced himself to ignore his fear in favor of finding Credence. If something in the hotel decided to go after them, they’d stand a better chance when they were together. He rapidly left the Entrance Hall and did his best to not think about the creepy incidents with the staircase and the chandelier.

It almost seemed as if something was out to kill him, his mind supplied, and he shivered.

“Credence?” he called and he thought he heard a response. He followed the noise and could soon determine that he was once more hearing voices behind closed doors. This time, though, the voices weren’t muffled, but a loud hubbub and Percy could even make out a few scraps of conversation.

What he heard loud and clear, though, was Credence’s voice among them, pleading with someone or something to please leave him alone.

Percy started to sprint towards the source of the noise, calling out Credence’s name. He turned around a corner and now he knew into which room Credence must have fled.

The voices were coming from the ballroom of the Macusa Hotel, dubbed “The Gold Room” because of the interior and the wall paneling (privately, Percy thought it looked too opulent and had crossed the line from elegant to tacky).

As soon as Percy approached the ballroom, all three double doors slammed shut simultaneously. Percy tried door after door, frantically knocking on the doors and calling out to Credence, but the doors were all locked.

The voices inside the ballroom reached a crescendo and suddenly, everything was silent once more.

The door in front of which Percy was standing opened as if it had never been locked in the first place.

Credence was sitting on the bar, looking lonely and lost in the large knitted sweater he was wearing and he stared at Percy with a frightened expression that broke Percy’s heart, but also made him temporarily forget about the strange occurrences that had just happened.

His priority was Credence, he reminded himself. Nothing was as important as Credence’s well-being.

Percy sighed and held up his hands. “I’m so sorry. I said some things that I shouldn’t have said.”

Credence glanced at him and made a soft noise.

“I understand that you don’t want to leave the Macusa,” Percy continued. “I’m sorry I got defensive, I’m just not looking forward to facing Picquery’s meanness again, but I promise that I’ll talk to her about hiring me.”

Credence looked at him, but didn’t seem frightened anymore, so Percy got closer. The boy’s face was splotched with tears and Percy was filled with self-hatred because he’d been the cause of them. Credence was hurt and looked extremely vulnerable, as if any false word or movement might shatter him at the moment.

“Credence,” Percy whispered and fell to his knees in front of the boy. “I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” He turned his head to the side and nuzzled Credence’s knee. “I’m so sorry, Credence. Forgive me, please.”

Credence attempted to laugh, but it was very evident that he’d been crying until recently. “Percy, get up, this feels weird,” he croaked and Percy complied.

Once he was on his feet again, he found himself standing between Credence’s legs, who was still sitting on the bar and thus had a height advantage over him.

“You stupid man,” Credence said, but there was no malicious intent in his voice. “Of course I forgive you.”

Percy reached out and rested his hands on Credence’s hips, running his fingers over the prominent jut of Credence’s hipbones through his pants.

“We’ll find a way to be together,” Percy said in a solemn voice and looked into Credence’s beautiful brown eyes. “Alright?”

“Alright,” Credence agreed and pulled Percy in for a kiss.

Credence gave him a kiss that was a mixture of love, tenderness and sheer desperation. He bit Percy's lip and clawed at Percy's shoulders until his blunt nails dug into Percy's skin.

“Bedroom,” Credence gasped and let out a surprised yelp as Percy picked him up and started to carry him bridal-style to the Presidential Suite.

As soon as they’d reached the bedroom, Percy deposited Credence on their bed and joined him only seconds later. He leaned over Credence and pressed kisses to ever bit of skin he could reach.

“I’m sorry,” he babbled over and over again. “We’ll find a way, I promise.”

Credence silenced him with a kiss and held him close in an embrace that almost squeezed the breath from Percy’s lungs. They made quick work of their clothes and Credence clawed at Percy’s naked back to bring him even closer.

It wasn’t long until Percy had Credence lying on his stomach, opening him up first with his tongue and then with his fingers.

(They went through the lube at such a quick pace that Credence once made a joke about it – someone would surely notice what they'd been up to once the winter came to an end, because they’d left a noticeable dent in the supplies.)

“I’m ready,” Credence said and Percy pulled his fingers out. Credence turned around, lying on his back now.

“I want to see your face when you fuck me,” he mumbled and spread his legs to make room for Percy.

Percy groaned at hearing Credence’s confession and he quickly slicked up his cock before he slowly started to push inside. It was heaven each time, Credence’s tightness and his moans, the sounds of which went straight to Percy’s groin.

They were rougher with each other now than during their first few times together, and he was loath to admit it, but Credence’s stamina was making Percy look, well, old in comparison. He should have made Credence come before he’d started fucking him in earnest, but Credence’s pleading expression had done him in.

Credence beckoned Percy closer, with his arms, his legs, with the moans that fell from his kiss-swollen lips. He was mumbling nonsense, mostly Percy’s name, it seemed, and his hands found their way into Percy’s hair, mussing it, pulling at it.

Percy came and Credence didn’t let him pull out, urged him to stay over him and Percy self-consciously tried to support most of his weight on his elbows, lest he damage the delicate body underneath him in any way. He gave a breathless chuckle at this thought and Credence looked up at him, confused.

“What’s so funny?” he mumbled, still holding Percy close.

“You’re so skinny, if I’m not careful, I could break you,” Percy mumbled.

Credence slightly shook his head.

“I’d let you,” Credence whispered back and finally allowed Percy to pull out, but still held him close.

“You haven’t come, doll,” Percy remarked and wanted to position himself in order to suck Credence off, but he held him back.

“I…,” he said, but Percy wrapped a hand around Credence’s cock and Credence seemed to have forgotten what he wanted to say. “Okay,” he whispered.

Percy slid down the length of Credence’s body and attempted to find a position that would make this as easy as possible. To be honest, the first time he’d seen Credence naked (or more accurately, the first time he’d seen Credence naked while he was sober), Percy had been torn between fascination and jealousy. It turned out that Credence was rather _blessed_ , as some might put it, and giving him head was still slightly intimidating, but Percy was determined.

Overstimulated and hyper-sensitive as he was, it didn’t take long for Credence to come and enter a state of post-orgasmic bliss.

Percy got up and went to the bathroom in order to rinse out his mouth. Credence might not have a problem with the taste, but Percy could do without it.

He returned to the bedroom, climbed back onto the bed and saw that Credence’s eyes were strangely glassy.

“Is everything okay?” he asked and moved to pull Credence into an embrace.

Credence moved close to Percy and rested his head on Percy’s chest.

“Don’t leave me,” he pleaded with him. “Please, don’t leave me.”

Percy buried his nose in Credence’s soft hair.

“I’m not going to leave you,” he replied. “I promise.”

Credence, pacified for the moment, relaxed and was soon fast asleep. Percy watched the periodical rise and fall of his lover’s chest and finally acknowledged the nature of his feelings for Credence for what they were.

“I love you,” he said to a sleeping Credence and got no reaction except for a content sigh.

“I’d die for you,” Percy didn’t add, but the words were nevertheless lingering in the air like a bittersweet, not particularly pleasant odor.

The words of the ghost girl he’d seen all those months ago came back to mind. ‘If you leave, he’ll be very sad.’ No, Percy thought to himself, he didn’t want to make Credence sad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick question: I have started writing a smut scene for this fic, but due to *reasons* (mostly because they're hella OOC), I can't/won't include it in the fic. If you want to read it, I might finish it and post it as a sort of companion one-shot, though? (Cough cough, it involves spanking...)
> 
> Also, by now you surely know that I love comments, because they fuel my muse and my motivation for this fic, so please leave me one! <3 I'm especially curious if you've got any theories on what's going on at the Hotel ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence Barebone gets a hug, Percy talks about the future and, last but not least, revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I have reposted the smut ficlet - find it [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10946136)
> 
> Other than that, have fun with chapter 7, everyone. Also, feel free to scream at me in the comment section - I have a feeling you might want to after you read it.
> 
> (Trigger warning for slightly graphic retelling of murder at the end of the chapter.)

**Chapter 7**

**April 15 th, Midmorning**

Over breakfast, Credence had been anxious and restless – it was such an unusual behavior for him that after about ten minutes, Percy asked whether anything was wrong. In lieu of an answer, Credence had just led him back to their suite and pointed to the calendar at the door, like he’d done once before.

Percy did his best to keep from scoffing and thought that if the calendar continued to upset Credence, he just might rip the offensive thing off the door and throw it in the trash.

“A week,” Credence whispered and wrapped his thin arms around himself. “There’s only a week left until they come back.”

“Come here, baby,” Percy said and spread his arms wide. Credence stepped into the offered hug and Percy could feel that he was shivering.

“Do you think they’re going to find out?” Credence asked meekly.

Percy reached up and cupped Credence’s cheek, trying to be the optimistic one in their relationship for a change. That particular role usually fell to Credence, while Percy doubted everything, but it was clear that Credence needed some extra reassurance at the moment.

"It'll turn out alright," Percy tried to comfort him. "I'm going to talk to Picquery and we'll find a solution."

Credence keened and leaned into Percy’s touch.

“What if she doesn’t hire you?” he said and bit his lip, already feeling slightly sorry for having spoken his worries out loud. “What if she finds out and tells someone? What if you’re arrested…I never wanted to put you in any danger!”

“Shsh,” Percy shushed him. “It’s alright.”

He gently guided Credence to the chaise lounge in their suite and sat him down.

“Do you need something? A drink? A blanket? You seemed to be cold to the touch again,” Percy said and Credence nodded.

“Blanket,” he said. “Please.”

Percy left to get a blanket from their bedroom and wrapped Credence it around Credence until he looked like a bundle of fabric, with just his head of messy black hair poking out at the top.

“Better?” Percy asked.

Credence hummed an affirmative response and leaned against Percy for support and comfort.

“You know what we’re going to do?” Percy started and rubbed circles over Credence’s blanket-clad back. “We’ll move out of the Presidential Suite during the next few days, clean everything so it will seem as though we’ve actually been living in the caretaker’s apartment for all these months. I’ll talk to Picquery and I’ll ask her if she’s got a job for me. If she does, we’ll just have to be careful and nobody’s going to find out.”

Credence nodded and worked one arm out of the blanket bundle. He reached for Percy’s hand and brought it to his mouth.

“Go on,” he said, while he trailed feather-light kisses over Percy’s palm, the back of his hand and his wrist.

Percy swallowed distractedly and continued: “If she doesn’t, then we'll go somewhere else, some place where nobody knows us. Get jobs. Rent a little apartment of our own and tell a few white lies here and there.”

Credence had moved on to trailing his mouth over Percy’s fingertips, parting his lips slightly to suck each digit briefly into his mouth and give it a tentative lick with just the tip of his tongue.

“I-it won’t always be easy, but overall, we’ll have a good life,” Percy concluded, just as Credence sucked the tip of Percy’s thumb into his mouth. “Credence, you make it really hard to concentrate,” he half-said, half-groaned. Credence just blinked and reluctantly released Percy’s thumb.

“Sorry,” he said and kissed Percy’s palm. “Tell me more,” he added and slowly began to shed the blanket.

“Right,” Percy continued. “So, I’ll get my salary, but I don’t have much money otherwise. Most of my previous earnings went into paying off my father’s debts, but we’ll manage. I assume you have some savings…”

Credence faltered for a moment, before he freed himself of the blanket and started fiddling with the buttons of Percy’s shirt.

“Credence?” he asked. “What is it?”

The younger man hesitated and blushed.

“Um,” he said. “I don’t have any money…I work for board and lodgings…”

“Oh,” Percy replied and did some quick calculations in his mind. “That makes things a bit more difficult.”

Credence looked down and returned to the task of freeing Percy from his shirt, kissing his collarbones and lightly scraping his teeth over Percy’s skin.

“I’m sorry I haven’t got any money,” Credence said and was about to get up from the chaise lounge in order to kneel between Percy’s legs, when Percy held him back.

His mind was addled with lust, and his voice was slightly hoarse as he said: “We’ll find a way. Everything is better than this hotel full of creepy ghosts.”

Credence flinched, all seductive behavior gone in favor of a strangely urgent concern.

“What?” he implored. “You’ve actually seen ghosts? Why didn’t you tell me?”

"I'm sorry?" Percy answered. "I didn't want to worry you. I was frightened and I thought it's enough if one of us worries about such things.”

Credence started to shake and Percy misinterpreted the reaction. He wrapped his arms around Credence, pulled him close and spoke soothingly to him.

"It's alright, there’s no need to be scared,” he said. “I haven’t seen any ghosts for months.”

"I'm not scared," Credence said, but the distress in his voice was unmistakable. "Which ghosts did you see?"

Percy furrowed his brow, and reluctantly tried to recall as much as he could of the disturbing encounters. He told Credence how he was sure he’d seen the chef who’d committed suicide and that Senator Shaw and his wife had shocked Percy while he’d been working in the Entrance Hall.

Credence nodded and made to put a bit of distance between Percy and himself.

“That sounds like something Henry would do,” Credence mumbled. “He can be a bit of an asshole, don’t take it personally.”

“You can see them, too?” Percy asked. “I thought I was going stir-crazy!”

Credence nodded and opened his mouth to say more, but changed his mind and slightly shook his head. Percy exhaled and leaned his forehead against Credence’s – at least now there were no more secrets between them.

Percy blinked. He’d almost forgotten about the little ghost girl he’d seen all those months ago, the first sign that something strange was happening at the Macusa Hotel. He told the younger man about her and Credence looked as though he wanted to cry.

“She was one of the murdered girls, wasn’t she?” Percy asked quietly.

Credence nodded.

“It’s better during the summer, you know? There are many other children the girls can play with, but during the winter, it’s lonely and boring,” he replied.

“She did ask me to play with her,” Percy commented. “Oh, and she told me you liked me.”

Credence laughed a little.

“That’s not exactly a secret anymore.”

“No, I suppose not,” he answered. “But, Credence, you don’t seem to be frightened by the ghosts. Why? I almost pissed my pants each time I saw one.”

Credence seemed to struggle with himself whether he was going to answer Percy’s question or not.

“Percy, there’s something I should have told you,” he started and blinked a few times. “I should have told you from the start and…and I understand if you’re angry with me once you find out.”

“What is it?” Percy asked.

“The winter caretaker who went mad and became a murderer was Mary Lou Barebone, my adoptive mother. The girls are my sisters,” Credence confessed and hid his face in his hands.

Percy forgot to breathe for a moment or two.

“What?” he eventually managed to choke out.

“I should have protected them, but I couldn’t help them and it’s my fault that Ma got to them, I was just so, so useless…,” he babbled and was truly crying now.

Percy put his hands on Credence’s shoulders, steadying him as best as he could.

“Credence, look at me, come on,” he demanded softly. “Breathe, that’s right, inhale and exhale, calm down. What happened?”

Credence, between choked off sobs and with seemingly a permanent grimace fixed on his face, proceeded to tell Percy the whole sorry tale.

In life, Mary Lou Barebone had believed that witchcraft and magic existed, she’d been obsessed with it, and had examined every little paranormal thing that she heard about. She adopted children because she’d been unable to bear her own and her husband had left her because of this, but she’d never been a loving mother, the scars on Credence’s back were proof of that.

“I bore the brunt of it,” Credence said. “I tried to take the blame whenever I could because I couldn’t stand to see her punishing the girls. Chastity was thirteen and Modesty only eight when they…when they died and they shouldn’t have…”

Percy had to hold him for a while before he calmed down. It made sense, he thought, Credence blamed himself for the death of his sisters and didn’t think that he deserved to be alive. Perhaps he was still working in the hotel, in that dreadful spot, because he was convinced it might help him repent.

Mary Lou had taken the job at the Macusa Hotel after she’d read an article about the supposed hauntings in a newspaper that had incidentally belonged to Senator Shaw’s father – he’d let his younger son Langdon, who firmly believed in the paranormal, write articles at the time, Credence explained. Senator Shaw, when he’d still been alive, had allegedly felt ashamed of his younger brother, because he thought Langdon’s crazy ideas might tarnish his own image.

Percy didn’t ask how Credence knew this, but let him speak on. There was always time for questions later.

The Barebone family had moved into the hotel at the end of October in 1920 and things had allegedly gone from bad to worse sooner rather than later.

“Officially, Ma was employed by Picquery, but she didn’t do any of the work.”

Chastity and he, sometimes even Modesty, had to work to keep the hotel in good shape, all while Mary Lou performed hare-brained experiments all over the hotel, hoping to catch ghosts and expose the occult for all the world to see, with living – or, well, at least undead – proof at the Macusa Hotel.

“She was delusional,” Credence commented.

It didn’t take long for the isolation and the lack of any outside influences at the Macusa Hotel to affect Mrs. Barebone. She was convinced that every little thing that only seemed slightly out of the ordinary was a potential threat and that the hotel was out to destroy her.

(Percy would never have admitted that to Credence, but due to some of the occurrences that had happened to him at the Macusa Hotel, he could understand Mary Lou Barebone at least a little bit. If she’d already been paranoid when she’d come here, it wouldn’t be difficult to convince her that the hotel was evil at its core and intent on destroying her.)

“One evening, in the middle of January, Modesty made a mistake,” Credence said in a hollow voice, eyes staring into nothingness. “She said something about the nice, pretty lady who’d given her sweets and cocoa and…Ma freaked out.”

“Sorry, a nice lady? I thought Carole Shaw only died in 1923?” Percy interrupted and immediately regretted his question. He shouldn’t have interrupted Credence while he was recounting an obviously traumatizing event and Percy bit his tongue.

“She meant Queenie Goldstein, the cook who died in the gas explosion half a year earlier at the time,” Credence explained.

Mary Lou had apparently taken offense at Modesty’s comment and it had been enough to make her snap.

“She wanted to punish Modesty and asked for my belt, but I wouldn’t give it to her and she…she…,” Credence broke off and collapsed, sobbing and keening.

With a lot of gentle coaxing, Percy managed to glean that Mary Lou had foregone Credence’s belt in favor of an axe and had started screaming to her children about how ungrateful they were and how she was going to bash in their brains.

Credence had tried to lure her away from his sisters, in the hopes that he could defeat Mary Lou somehow and save his sisters from her wrath.

“It even worked, for a while, but then she snuck up on me and bashed in my kneecaps,” Credence told him.

She had dragged Credence outside and locked the door from the inside, so he couldn’t get back in.

“I tried to crawl, but it just hurt so, so much,” he cried and Percy found himself at a complete loss for words. He’d never expected Credence to have lived through such a horrifying experience.

“Ma killed my sisters and I couldn’t do anything, I was so useless and she…if I’d just been quicker, stronger, if _I_ ’d killed _her_ before she got to them…”

Modesty had died in the children’s tract where she’d gone to hide, but Mary Lou had found her after a sob from Modesty had alerted her to her presence. Chastity had been discovered cowering in a broom closet, about twenty minutes later.

“Modesty was a clean hit, but…but not Chastity. Ma just injured her and it took over an hour until she died. She was delirious, she’d ripped entire bushels of her own hair out during…during the…and all the while I was…I was so useless…,” Credence sobbed and Percy had the urge to tear Mary Lou Barebone apart with his bare hands, until he remembered that the woman was dead herself.

Percy frowned.

According to Credence, this had happened in the middle of January. Percy knew that there was no way for anyone to get to or away from the Hotel, unless they tracked through miles and miles of nothing but snow and ice.

How had Credence, with severe injuries, managed to escape his mother?

“You were locked outside here, in January, during the night,” Percy summarized. “Credence…I’m just wondering…how did you survive that?” he asked.

Credence didn’t answer right away, he just looked at Percy with a pleading expression.

Percy catalogued Credence’s features, with which he’d become so familiar over the course of the last six months. The black hair that had a tendency to curl when it got too long, the straight nose, his feline, brown eyes, the pink lips. It was the face of the man Percy loved and he couldn’t stand seeing Credence in even a small amount of pain.

Credence held Percy’s gaze and with a little shrug and a pained smile replied: “I didn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that some of you have seen this coming. To the others: I'm sorry.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The winter comes to an end...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long wait - I had the worst writer's block ever and I stopped counting how often I re-wrote that chapter. Anyway, a huge thank you to both [gothyringwald](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothyringwald/pseuds/gothyringwald) who helped me figure out the ending (and if you're not yet reading her fic "portentum", go read it!) and [ToriColourBastia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriColourBastia/pseuds/ToriColourBastia) who was so nice to beta this chapter!
> 
> There are two Shining references in this chapter, too, so if you want to play "spot the reference" again, be my guest ;) 
> 
> **Trigger warning: depiction of suicide**

**Chapter 8**

**April 15** ** th ** **, Noon**

“I didn't.”

Percy saw Credence’s lips form the words, heard his voice, the strangled, half-drowned undertone which meant Credence had cried not long ago and his brain even made sense of the words, but something deep inside of him (his heart, Percy suspected) didn’t, _couldn’t_ , accept their meaning.

“Credence,” he whispered and reached out to him. Countless times he’d held Credence’s body and had touched the firm flesh covering his delicate bones, felt the pulse fluttering just under his skin, speeding up under Percy’s skillful hands and heard Credence’s breath coming in short, needy puffs whenever they made love.

“You don’t look like them,” he said at last, in a confused, hurt tone. “All the other ghosts I’ve seen _looked_ dead, but you don’t.”

The form of Credence Barebone started to blur and gave way to the image of an emaciated boy dressed in a tattered suit. The wan, haggard face looked familiar, even though the cheekbones appeared even sharper and the eyes had lost their luster and allure. Gone was Credence’s soft, messy hair, replaced by the ugliest haircut Percy had ever seen. Most distressing, however, were the sight of Credence’s blue lips, the snowflakes clinging to his lashes and the frozen streaks of tears on his cheeks.

“Credence,” Percy repeated, incredulous and doubting the vision in front of him. “For the love of…,” he added.

The eerie vision vanished as promptly as it had come, and Credence as Percy knew him was again sitting in front of him, a rosy color dusting his cheeks. He was still thinner than Percy would have liked, but at least he didn’t have the half-starved, waifish look about him anymore.

“I’m sorry, Percy,” Credence said and tried to move closer, but hesitated at the last moment. “I should have said something sooner.”

An unbidden laugh threatened to bubble up from deep inside Percy’s chest, it was as inappropriate as it was necessary. It sounded devoid of joy, like some rusty machinery screeching into motion after a prolonged period of disuse.

“Say something, Percy,” Credence begged him.

Percy reached out to him and took one of Credence’s hands, linking their fingers together in the way that used to be a source of comfort. He examined their intertwined fingers, found himself thinking of every strange thing that had happened to him at the hotel and felt the sudden urge to retch.

He slowly pulled his hand out of Credence’s grasp and shifted on the chaise lounge in order to put distance between the two of them. Credence’s mouth twitched into a frown, but he made no attempt to reach out to Percy again.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated instead.

Percy was tempted to tell him that nothing was his fault, but stopped himself in time.

“Credence, has this,” he made a wide, all-encompassing gesture with his arms, “has any of this ever been real?”

Credence blinked in surprise, hurt flashed across his face and eventually he said, “Of course. Nothing has changed. Why do you ask me a question like that?”

Percy smiled, a fragile, fleeting thing and looked at his hands that lay in his lap, twisted into odd shapes.

“I’m scared that you’re just another trick of the hotel that’s trying to mess with my mind,” he confessed in a low voice. Mere seconds afterwards, he shivered and added, “I don’t know what’s real anymore – I think I’ve lost my mind.”

“I understand,” Credence whispered and tentatively reached out to touch Percival’s shoulder. “I can’t pretend I understand everything that’s happened to you at this place, but I can at least try…?”

Credence trailed off and was biting his lip, as Percy found out when he looked at him. Percy swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and agreed. Credence moved behind Percy to hug him in a loose embrace and they talked.

Every single strange encounter Percy had ever had in the hotel, not only the ghosts, but also the letter incident and the smaller things, like the chandelier almost crushing him, spilled from him and Credence listened, his warm breath tickling Percy’s skin. He could almost forget that Credence was…

“The Manager could explain this much better,” Credence said and proceeded to tell Percy all about his own odd experiences at the Macusa. In Credence’s opinion, the hotel had a personality of its own and was at times unpredictable – Credence didn’t always understand its motivation, even after having stayed at the place for so long. “He’s the only person who can keep the hotel in line,” he commented.

“Wait, Credence,” Percy threw in. “Picquery’s a woman, not a man. You’re not talking about her, are you?”

He could feel Credence shaking his head.

“I mean the architect of the Macusa,” Credence replied. “Picquery only controls this place at the most superficial level, the Manager’s been here since the very beginning.”

“The hotel’s first victim, then,” Percy muttered.

“If you want to put it that way, yes,” Credence agreed.

“How many of you are there?” he asked.

“Permanent residents? Nine, including me,” Credence said and tightened his hold around Percy. “Or ten, with you.”

Percy closed his eyes and sagged against Credence.

“I’m not dead,” he pointed out in a very calm voice.

Credence pressed a kiss to Percy’s temple.

“From what you’ve told me, I’m not sure if the hotel is going to let you leave – I was in a similar situation once and look at what happened to me.”

Percy turned around to face Credence.

“What, have you fallen in love with a ghost and didn’t know what to do about it?” he asked, a few gentle vestiges of humor creeping into his voice.

“No,” Credence replied, “but I was working here during the winter and the hotel decided to make me stay indefinitely. Ma’s delusions were just a means to an end for the Macusa.”

Percy mulled over his lover’s words and thought he caught a glimpse of Credence’s dead form again out of the corner of his eyes.

“You told me about the letters,” Credence began, “and I can assure you that none of us had anything to do with that. It must have been the hotel, ensuring that you get the job and nobody else.”

Percy shivered as Credence continued in a flat voice, “If you try to leave, you might have an unfortunate accident. That’s what happened to Carole Shaw. It also happened to Tina and Queenie.” He faltered for a moment and closed his eyes, before he quietly added, “I guess you could say that’s what happened to me.”

Percy thought about nearly falling down the stairs and the chandelier moving on its own, swaying precariously above his head. From what Credence had said, it seemed as though Percy wasn’t going to leave the hotel again.

“Then I’ll have to do my best to convince Picquery to let me stay, won’t I?”

Credence didn’t answer, he only tilted his head.

“Whatever happens, I can promise you that this is real,” Credence said and kissed Percy. “I love you.”

 

**April 23** ** rd ** **, Afternoon**

“No,” Picquery’s voice cut through the space between them, precise like a surgeon’s scalpel. Her reply also destroyed quite a lot of ways that Percy had imagined the future to go and it simultaneously firmed up his resolve to stay with Credence, whatever it might take.

The two of them had spent a lot of time clearing out the Presidential Suite and making the caretaker’s apartment look as if Percy had indeed inhabited it for the entire winter. The remaining time had been spent on trying to convince themselves that Percy would surely be allowed to stay.

“Ma’am, won’t you please reconsider?” Percy attempted to influence her decision. “I don’t have any other options, and I need a job…”

“First of all,” Picquery began, “I run a hotel, not a charity. Secondly, Percival, I’d like you to provide an explanation for _this_ ,” she finished and pulled out a stack of envelopes, each of them opened.

Recognition dawned on Percy’s face and Picquery noticed.

“Ha!” she exclaimed and pointed one outstretched finger at him.

Percy just eyed the letters and nodded to himself. A part of him had subconsciously known he wouldn’t leave the Macusa Hotel again for a long time already. Probably before the letters, even, maybe even before he’d fallen in love with Credence. He supposed there was a sort of poetic beauty to be found in the whole mess, if only enough time passed and provided one eschewed enough details. Percy, living the reality of it, found it rather amusing, if he was quite honest with himself.

(Credence had said it wouldn’t take long and the pain wasn’t so bad. Percy was soon going to find out whether that was true.)

He shook his head. He still had a role to play, for a little while, at least.

“I don’t have an explanation for this, Ma’am,” he answered.

Picquery crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave him a pinched expression.

“You can collect your wages tomorrow, I want you gone from this place within the next twenty-four hours,” she said. “Out.”

In a daze, Percy walked back to the caretaker’s apartment where he knew Credence would be waiting for him. Employees were swarming through the rooms and hallways of the Macusa and Percy found himself thinking of maggots, crawling through a rotten structure and gorging themselves on decay.

His lips twitched into a grin as he passed by the receptionist, Abernathy, who gave him a disdainful look.

“I assume you will not be staying much longer at our establishment,” Abernathy said and Percy felt the urge to laugh out loud.

“It has never belonged to you,” he replied, “it belongs to the guests.”

Leaving behind a confused and bewildered Abernathy, Percy continued to wander the hallways until he reached the caretaker’s apartment. Credence’s arms were around him as soon as he had closed the door behind him.

“No luck?” Credence asked.

Percy shook his head and quickly recounted his meeting with Picquery and the letters.

“That must have been the hotel,” Credence remarked in a bitter voice. “Making sure Picquery couldn’t be persuaded to let you stay.”

“Tonight, then,” Percy said with an odd finality, hollow, grim and determined, but he couldn’t hide how his voice shook. “I’m scared,” he admitted.

“That’s understandable,” Credence said. “I was afraid, too, but I’ll be there, Percy. You won’t be alone.”

 

**April 24** ** th ** **, 2:37 am**

Percy woke up in the Entrance Hall of the Macusa Hotel. The chandelier was still swinging gently from side to side.

Credence was standing beside him and extended a hand down to where Percy was lying on the ground. Percy gladly took the offered hand and let himself be pulled to his feet.

“How do you feel?” Credence asked and gave him a cautionary look.

Percy tested his limbs, flexed his muscles and looked at his hands.

“Normal,” he answered in a raspy voice. He cleared his throat and continued, “Good even. A bit less substantial than I’m used to, perhaps, but I feel fine.”

Credence gave him a wide grin.

“Good,” he said and pressed a kiss to Percy’s mouth. “The others are waiting for us in the Gold Room. I should introduce you.”

The two men made their way to the ballroom and Credence began to introduce him to the other permanent residents until he came to a thin, willowy redhead, who stepped forward and shook his hand.

“Newt Scamander,” he introduced himself. “I’m the architect of the Macusa Hotel and I believe Credence refers to me as ‘Manager’?”

Percy nodded.

“Percy Graves,” he replied, “but I’m sure you knew that already.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to you because of the hotel, we’re…,” Newt started to launch into an explanation, but Percy just shook his head and held up a hand in order to silence him.

He looked around the faces of the assembled residents, from Newt over the Goldstein sisters and Jacob Kowalski, the Shaw couple and the Barebone siblings and his gaze finally came to rest on Credence’s face.

“It’s alright,” Percy said. “I know I’m not alone.”

 

**April 24** ** th ** **, Morning**

The employees of the Macusa Hotel found the body of Percy Graves, the winter caretaker, in the Entrance Hall, dangling from the chandelier.

Abernathy, the receptionist, stared at the sorry display in shock while Picquery started screaming to do something about the situation and to not let it get out. They didn’t need another scandal.

Percy, for his part, stared at his body as it was taken down with a wistful expression. Credence had an arm wrapped around Percy, the flat of his palm resting on the older man’s back and periodically rubbed soothing circles into Percy’s skin.

“Come on,” Credence said at last, “you don’t really want to watch all of this.”

He led Percy outside, the two of them walking right across the Entrance Hall without any of the employees taking notice. Once they were outside, Percy turned around and looked back at the façade of the Macusa Hotel.

“I suppose that it’s, then,” he said, tore his gaze away from the hotel and instead chose to concentrate on Credence. “Together forever,” he added and grinned.

“Forever and ever and ever,” Credence agreed and they kissed on the hotel’s front lawn, in plain sight of everyone.

There was one last thing Percy wanted to do, though…

 

**April 24** ** th ** **, Afternoon**

Seraphina Picquery was sitting in her office and felt righteous anger at her late winter caretaker and whoever had manipulated the letters to make her hire that catastrophe of a man in the first place.

She startled when she felt a finger tapping on her shoulder, as if somebody was trying to get her attention, but that had to be impossible – she would have noticed it if anybody had entered the room!

She turned around, only to discover a very much alive-looking Percival Graves grinning down at her.

“Boo,” he said, before he disappeared before her very eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> I'm also on tumblr: [@almost-annette](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/almost-annette)


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